Someday
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: AU. It's those small moments you end up remembering for the rest of your life.
1. Halloween

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater.

**Someday  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

It starts with Halloween.

She's holding a little girls hand, leading her down cobblestone streets plagued with loud, sugar high, children and fond parents. The little girl's name is Tsugumi Harudori. She's this adorable little thing with raven black hair tied back in two spunky pigtails, much like herself, and she's dressed up cute as a fairy princess. Her frilly dress sparkles yellow and orange under the streetlamps and the limp fairy wings on her back wink like the stars that dot the sky. Her pumpkin bucket rattles with candy as she skips, singing a snazzy holiday rhyme to herself.

The sickle moon in the sky has violet clouds rolling past it. With each one, a darkness spreads across the land like tar until moonlight pierces through it. With every roll of darkness, however, the temperature drops even more. And with every temperature drop, another family hikes it back home for the night with their kid swinging a bag of tooth-decaying treats like they're gold.

"Tsugumi, why don't we call it a night?" Maka Albarn suggests, not dressed up as anything particularly interesting. She's in her work skirt, her Oxford button-up hidden under a black blazer, and her black pumps are starting to become unbearable to walk in. Her name tag that reads _Hello, my name is Maka Albarn! _was still pinned on the lapel of her jacket. "It's getting really late and your parents are probably wondering where you are by now."

"Mommy's out with daddy!" Tsugumi insists, looking up at her with stubborn marble black eyes. "They're gonna' be out for a _long_ time! I don't wanna' be alone at home, Maka!"

"You won't be alone, I'll be there with you until they come back!"

"But I wanna' get more candy…" Tsugumi mumbles, looking into her pumpkin bucket. It's only half full but Maka thinks that's _more_ than enough candy for a nine year old. Tsugumi suddenly snaps her head up, mouth round with an idea. "Maka! Maka, Maka! Let's go to _that_ house! The one over there! Do you see it?"

Of course she does. Who can miss it? Tall, looming, silhouetted against a sky whose darkness has swallowed the stars and breathed out smoky clouds, is the Evans Manor. The walls are crowding with vines, handfuls of it crawling across the grass like snakes. The gates are speared and the metal is thick and heavy, a warning to anyone with the idea of trespassing. The lights are out in every mullioned window, curtains drawn, and the entire property exhaled a certain silence that would make anyone uncomfortable. It appeared abandoned but Maka knows someone lives there.

Someone _has_ to.

"Ah, Tsugumi..." Maka begins with trepidation, "I don't think anyone's home right now!"

"But….but there's no more houses!" Tsugumi hunkers over, sadly.

After a second or two of watching that house remain motionless and more-or-less _harmless_, Maka sighs and gives their held hands a little swing. "Alright, come on. It can't hurt to try, right? But if no one answers, we're going home. Deal?"

"Okay!" Tsugumi brightens up instantly. "Come on, come on! Before they go to sleep!" She urges, pulling Maka down a winding path fringed with weeds and deadened bushes. The closer they get, the more pressing the darkness around them becomes. It feels like it's hissing at them to get away; to scram because they have no business there. Yet Tsugumi remains oblivious and Maka follows closely behind with a nervous swallow, the howling wind that twists around them warningly making the hairs in the back of her neck rise.

There are rumors that surround that manor by the edge of Death City. Scary rumors, rumors that have been twisted around and chewed up and spat out so many times that one can't be sure what's true or not. But from what she gathered there lived a warlock at Evans Manor, a warlock with fierce red eyes and razor sharp teeth and _soul_lust to boot. They say he's the watcher of their small town; not so much hated as he is begrudgingly accepted, as he'd once sent a pack of witches running the other way when they'd decided to invade for their own selfish desires. But that's all myth, many of the townsfolk insist, practically a legend. It's a story that's been told over and over again and has become something more of a bedtime story for hyperactive children like Tsugumi Harudori.

But there is truth to the tall tales, Maka knows. There's truth in the way no one has seen movement within the house yet it is always well-kept, the way Maka can almost _taste _the magic shut-up within the house, a tasteless glue that makes it hard to swallow; and in the way shadows shift abnormally around the property, how the wind whispers in their ears warningly if they tread too close. How much truth there is, however, is yet to be revealed.

But Maka has confidence she's read up enough on witches and warlocks and other things that go bump in the night to know they're safe.

For now.

The gate opens upon Maka's touch, as if it had been expecting her all along. Tsugumi trots inside happily, pulling Maka along as the gate creaks closed behind them. Maka likes to think the wind did it, even if the current breeze is not strong enough to shut a gate that heavy. The path to the front door is long and cracked, as if someone had slammed their fist into the pavement in a rage. But it's relatively clean of any leaves and dirt and the porch was swept and equally neat. There's a single light overhead of them on the front porch, shrouding them in sickly yellow light, and Tsugumi looks up at Maka.

"I can't reach…"

"Here, l'll do it," Maka smiles, reaching for the knocker. She bangs it three times and pulls back, observing the strong wood door before her. The knocker reminds her of a lion with the way its eyes flash dangerously and its nostrils flare with rage; chest puffed, claws out. Intimidating… if Maka hadn't seen at least four others of its kind. Although she admits this one is the most impressive to date.

Suddenly, the door sighs open.

"May I help you?" He's rather tall and dressed down in a fine suit, shined shoes, tie impeccably centered on his chest. The material of his suit is the blackest of black and the inside is no better. Maka knows she's speaking to someone and _not_ a shadow because this man is deathly pale with three streaks of blinding white running horizontally on his neatly trimmed hair. His eyes are a burning golden; like a hot brand dunked in a cauldron of melted gold.

He's not human; Maka knows this instantly. He's not normal, not in the slightest, not with those distinctive golden eyes that flicker with internal fire, but he looks harmless at the moment so Maka doesn't make a break for it. She only holds Tsugumi's hand tighter and pushes her behind her a little, a move that is not missed by the odd man.

"Trick or treat!" Tsugumi cheerfully shouts, holding out her pumpkin bucket eagerly.

Maka offers a smile. "Happy Halloween! I hope we're not intruding on anything…"

The man gives her a blank stare. He looks down at the little girl whose faltered and lowered her bucket. "Wait a moment, please, I'll have to discuss this…_development_ with the master of the house!" He bows and closes the door softly.

"…No candy?" Tsugumi grumbles, scowling. "That guys stingy! I don't like 'em!"

"Tsugumi, not many people come trick or treat here. They're probably not used to this," Maka calms her. It would make sense: no one in their right mind would come within ten feet of the manor gate, much less traverse over forbidden land and knock on the door. They would be the first in who knows how many years. "Who knows? Maybe he'll give you a chocolate cake if you wait patiently!" Maka laughs cheerfully, making Tsugumi's annoyance shift to laughter as well.

They wait only a little longer, Maka squinting at the knocker that's looking stranger by the minute. Its _eyes_ look strange – like someone is looking at them through it. She can't shake the feeling off but she tells herself she's being ridiculous: knockers can't act as peepholes. Right? Then again, this _is_ a warlocks home they were trick or treating at…

The door opens again and, to Maka's shock and Tsugumi's glee, the man hands them two slices of chocolate cake with a slight smile.

"YAY! CAKE! You were right, Maka! You were right!" Tsugumi squeals, taking a slice while Maka takes hers, dumbfounded. "Thank you mister creepy guy! You're so nice!"

"_Tsugumi!_" Maka chokes out while the 'creepy guy' merely looks behind them silently, scanning the area carefully. "Apologize this instant!"

"But I don't know his name!" Tsugumi whines. At Maka's sharp look, she mumbles. "_Sorry_…"

"My name is Death the Kid," he responds, done with his survey of the grounds. "And I accept your apology."

"Thank you for the cake, Death the Kid," Maka thanks, successful in not stumbling over his strange name. Just by his name, Maka has a feeling she knows exactly what he is. His frighteningly pale face, hollow golden eyes, black suit – so black it blends in with the shadows. What he is and what he works as, it's _not_ pretty, that's for sure. Maka makes sure to stay in front of Tsugumi at all times. "Not many people would give out cake today! Tell the master of the house to have a great Halloween!"

"You're welcome," Death the Kid nods, cordially. "Today is a very special day, indeed. The night of witches and warlocks! An event to be celebrated greatly amongst those to whom it is dedicated to!"

As Tsugumi happily munches on her cake, ignoring their talk, Maka frowns: "Like him?"

Death the Kid holds her stare. "Yes."

It's silent for a few beats before Maka's expression melts into something more friendly. "Well, then, I hope this day has turned out to his liking. It must be very important for him. We should both get going, it's late. You know what they say about being out so late."

"It's quite dangerous to be out at this time, on this day," Death the Kid agrees, gravely. "A witch may swoop down and take your daughter if you're not careful."

"D-daughter? Oh, no, she's not mine! I don't have any children of my own!" Maka laughs, embarrassed. Tsugumi finishes her slice and eyes Maka's own slice greedily. "I'm taking care of her since her parents are out having dinner! But I'll keep a sharp eye out for witches who might take this little brat away from me," Maka raises her slice out of her reach, arching a brow down at the little girl. "You've had enough sugar for the night, Tsugumi! Anymore and you won't be able to sleep!"

"But, _Maka!_"

"No," Maka glares softly and her attention returns to the man at the door.

"Ah, my mistake. Well, then, I bid you goodnight, ma'am..." He looks at Tsugumi and says, dryly: "Child."

"Bye, Kid!" Tsugumi chirps. "My name is Tsugumi! And this is Maka!" She points at her babysitter happily. "Happy Halloween!"

"Death the Kid," Maka corrects.

"Too long!" The little girl wrinkles her nose. "Kid's better! Right, Kid?"

Maka looks up at Kid to find him smiling down at the little girl, more amused than offended by her antics. He doesn't seem to mind the nickname so Maka doesn't comment any further. He's a rather lenient Reaper, Maka thinks, perhaps he has been in the human realm for far too long if he can respond to a child's innocent blabber without trying to cull her soul.

"You should drop by the town square for Thanksgiving, Kid," Maka invites politely. Kid's eyes widen marginally. "You and the warlock!" At this, Kid's eyes widen even more. "I think it'd be fun to have you two around! You guys can meet everyone else! Socialize!"

"Yeah! Yeah!" Tsugumi nods fervently. "There's a lot of food there! Like mashed potatoes and turkey and gravy and ham! You should come, Kid, and the other guy! The one who eats peoples souls – but he _can't_ eat the peoples souls there, okay? Because that's not nice. People are _friends_ not _food_!" She lectures sternly to Kid's and, unbeknownst to them both, the master of the houses' utter amusement.

"Tsugumi…" Maka sighs, casting Kid an apologetic look. "She runs her mouth a lot. Sorry about that, that's not something you tell a reaper."

"…You are very knowledgeable for a human," Kid observes, not denying anything. "Are you not afraid of him?"

"He hasn't done anything for me to be fearful of. And you're a dealer of death – it's your birth-given job," Maka answers, without any fear or disgust. "If he wanted to destroy this entire town, he would've done it a long time ago. On the contrary, his presence keeps out other nasty things. I'm actually thankful he's around. You and him both."

"Are you now?" Kid murmurs, intrigued. "It is true the masters magic wards away Kishin's and other weak witches. Once more, you're well-read in this. I'm surprised you realized I was a reaper so easily."

"I have to know what's living next door to me, right?" Maka smirks.

Kid hums in intrigue. "I shall discuss your invitation with the master."

"Well, I hope you two can make it!" Maka beams before taking Tsugumi's hand and leading her down the porch steps. "Bye, Kid!" Maka doesn't even hear the door swing shut but she knows he's not there anymore because the air has grown thick again, like that presence that invades this land had fled at the sight of the pale man but returned at his disappearance.

The gate, seemingly locked from the distance, opens easily at the touch of her hand. Maka takes one last look toward the grand manor that houses what Maka now firmly knows is a warlock and a reaper and pauses when she sees a shadow on the third floor, the soft embers of a hearth glowing behind him and illuminating his strong physique. She catches spiked hair, broad shoulders, and she wishes he'd tilt his chin up a little so she could catch sight of his face.

Tsugumi stumbles over a rock and nearly brings Maka down with her. In the panic to save Tsugumi and her slice of cake, Maka does this awkward stumble; cursing her heels to hell and back. But she saves herself, her cake, and Tsugumi from the otherwise nasty fall. When she glances back up to the third floor, the window is dark and the house is silent again.

"Maka?" Tsugumi blinks up at her, curiously. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Maka smiles down at her. "I just thought I saw someone at the window!"

Tsugumi looks at the windows and shudders. "Scaaaary!"

So they walk back home, hand in hand.

Maka is wary of broomsticks and pointed hats the entire way.

* * *

**A/N: **This is going to be updated on every major holiday. That's my goal, anyway. But who knows, I might just update when I have the chapter ready. I guess it depends on how popular this story is but mostly on my schedule since college never lets me sleep and it doesn't help that I'm so lazy nowadays.

Happy Halloween!

_Scarlett._


	2. Thanksgiving

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_Thanksgiving._

_"One at a time!_" Maka shouts at the top of her lungs, sighing when no one pays her any heed and just crowds around the table all at once. "One at a time, please! There's enough for everyone!" Maka hands a little girl a plate of food after taking her ticket stub, shoving it in the pocket of the light blue apron she wears over her long sleeved shirt. More hungry customers crowd around after the little girl leaves, all wanting their food _now. _Believe it or not, Maka volunteered to do this: take ticket stubs, hand out plates of food, get yelled at by hungry customers, yell _at_ hungry costumers when they cut in line. There are tables with assortment of foods and desserts stretched out all down the town square, other food stands scattered down the snaking road, selling cotton candy and caramel-dipped apples and cheesy popcorn. Maka's sure all the residents of Death City are wandering the streets on this special day: Thanksgiving.

It's always like this during the evening but it won't be long before the streets thin out.

It won't be long before everyone heads back home to celebrate a more private Thanksgiving with their family, with their friends and even partners.

Her friends are mainly those who frequent the bank she works at for most of her days. But mostly, it was fellow clerk Liz Thompson, whom she had lunch with most days. But Maka knows they're not close enough for them to feel comfortable inviting her to dinner or anything of the sort and Maka is alright with it because she had never been one to crash parties like that. As for a partner, boyfriend, boy toy, whatever they're called nowadays, Maka hasn't had one since she was a Junior in high school and the thing about living in a small town is, when you break up, _everyone_ knows. And when they find another girlfriend and end up marrying them, Maka thinks bemusedly, _everyone_ looks at you sympathetically and offer their condolences.

As for family, she doesn't have one.

She did, once.

Now, she usually crashes the Harudori family parties, mainly because Tsugumi is a stubborn child and insists on having her there all the time. Her parents don't mind having her around but it's celebrations like these that Maka usually ditches.

This is a _family_ event.

Maka isn't family.

To Tsugumi, it may feel like it, but honestly she's not. She has no business there, with her small friends loved and cherished ones. She always bails out on this holiday with the excuse of helping out around town because it's awkward to sit around people she doesn't know and watch them interact with each other so warmly. It's like this on Christmas, too, but that's another story for another time.

So that's why she's here handing out plates of food to greedy people who sometimes manage to snatch plates without her notice. The crowd stays like this for awhile, with Maka swatting away hungry hands and shouting for order. But once the line begins to thin out, order is momentarily restored. Maka smiles at a girl with long raven hair tied into a high ponytail who steps up with her ticket stubs held in both her hands nervously. She smiles sweetly, with a hint of trepidation, but upon seeing Maka's bright smile, her oceanic eyes light up with a kind warmth and she straightens up more confidently.

"What will you have, ma'am?" Maka asks.

"May I have three plates of turkey, ham, mashed potatoes with gravy please? Oh, and a side of gravy! Just gravy..."

"Sure! Three plates coming up!" Maka chirps, taking her ticket stub and preparing three plates for her. There's something rather strange about this girl, the aura she gives off. Maka doesn't quite understand how she knows this but she can feel it and Maka doesn't ignore her gut-feeling. It's gotten her out of sticky situations too many times to ignore it now. But instead of asking, Maka only continues filling up her plate with food. It's not her business, after all, but she does keep an eye on the otherwise kind girl.

"You…" The girl falters. She regains her courage when Maka looks at her curiously. "Are you Maka, by any chance?"

"Yep, that's me!" Maka cocks her head. "Have I met you somewhere before?"

"Oh, no!" The girl shakes her head fervently. "My name is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. You haven't seen me but you visited the Evans manor for Halloween…"

"Oh! Yeah! Do you live there, too?" Maka asks, curiously.

"Yes, I'm the guard and cook there!" Tsubaki happily chirps, relieved to be able to speak someone without having them run away. Kid had spoken highly of her, Maka, and Tsubaki had been anxious to finally befriend someone without having to lie to them about what she really was.

"Guard?" Maka perks up. This girl looks like she couldn't hurt a fly! So sweet and innocent, there was no way she could hurt anyone! "Were you the one who made that cake, too? It was delicious!"

"Thank you!" Tsubaki beams. Her smile becomes a bit bashful. "I know I may not look like much but I do guard the manor along with my Meister."

"Meister—? Oh, then you must be a _weapon!_" Maka realizes. _That_ explained a lot!

"Yes!" Tsubaki says, delighted. She didn't look a hint disturbed! _M-maybe I can have a real friend now, _Tsubaki thinks, heart bursting with glee. _She knows and she's not scared! _"Shadow Blade type!"

"Oh, wow… I've never met a weapon before," Maka admits. "One day, you have to show me!" Tsubaki beams and nods eagerly. She looks so normal, though! Like any other pretty town girl out with her family. There's nothing to tell you she can change into a deadly weapon at a seconds notice and this only makes Maka wonder even more. "Hey, um, this warlock that lives there…does he ever come out?" Maka finishes serving the second plate of food, wary on the impatient people waiting behind Tsubaki.

"Oh, yes, a lot."

"Huh?" Maka blinks. "How come I've never seen him around before?"

Tsubaki giggles. "Well, he won't come out in his _true_ form!" She lowers her voice. "He disguises himself! "

Unable to help herself, Maka whispers: "Is he out right now?"

"No, not today. He doesn't usually go out during holidays. That's why he asked me to buy him a plate! He excused me from kitchen duty since it's a Thanksgiving!" Tsubaki gestures to the food Maka has served. "Did you make this, by the way?"

"Not all of it, but I did make the ham! I'm just handing them out since the other girls are busy..."

"Well, it looks delicious!" Tsubaki balances the plates in her hand and arm impressively. Maka notices that, despite bearing warm blue eyes and a kind smile, her arms are muscular and the way she holds herself, with a subtle grace Maka can't pinpoint, give away a history of martial arts. Blade type, huh? Maka really can't help being curious about how that would look like! "Ah, I should go. The man behind me looks angry," Tsubaki meekly laughs. She brightens up soon after: "It was nice to finally meet you, Maka! I...I hope we can be...come _friends_," she dares, bravely, and relaxes when she receives a bright smile in reply.

"I hope so, too, Tsubaki! And tell that guy to show some spirit and go out during the holidays! Just because he's not human doesn't mean he can't enjoy himself out here with us!" Maka beams. Tsubaki looks stunned for a second but she nods quickly and manages an even bigger smile of her own. It isn't often she's accepted so easily, especially by a human. Humans were the first to scream and run away. Kid had been right: this Maka girl was one in a hundred! "Bye, have a nice night!"

"You, too!"

And just like that, the girl disappears within the crowd.

But Maka's left with a warm feeling in her chest, the thought of _friend, I'd really like to be her friend _resonating in her mind. In fact, she feels so good that she doesn't mind when the man who'd been standing behind of Tsubaki sends her a dirty look and snatches the plate of food from her hand grouchily.


	3. Christmas

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_Christmas._

Here's the thing about this holiday: it's not all its cut out to be.

Christmas is that time of the year when she is continually reminded of just how painfully lonely she really is. Despite having all the comforts she could want, there is still a gap in her heart. She is sure no amount of Christmas shopping, of cheery holiday greetings, will be able to fill up that gap, too. It doesn't help that the gap has a tendency to grow when she watches families. The gap expands, reminds her that own family is dysfunctional and scattered. Her mother is somewhere around the globe. Maka's lost count to where she's traveled to this time. Her father is most likely out in some bar in Death City finding a girl to keep him warm for the night, as per usual. Hence, aside from quick Christmas shopping, she hardly comes out during this day, this month.

He doesn't visit anymore, her father that is. That's because Maka's kicked him out of her apartment more times than either could count. So, after awhile, he stopped dropping by altogether. Although Maka doesn't like admitting it, it saddens her because he was probably the first person who truly gave a damn about what happened her. Her mother had left her in his irresponsible care at the tender age of twelve and had made very few appearances in her life since. She practically raised herself, Maka thinks, although her father managed to somewhat fill the hole left behind by her mother's apparent abandonment. That is, until Maka couldn't stand being set aside for other girls and their arguments escalated.

The second person who gives a real damn about her now is Tsugumi Harudori.

And she's only _nine._

But it's enough. That little girl has brightened her otherwise dull existence in a way no one can understand. That little girl is the reason Maka's running with a giant box in her arms in the late evening, cursing herself for not having enough time to pick it up earlier. Her job at Death City Bank had swallowed up the time without her even knowing. She has the thought that she's lucky she managed to catch the vendor just before he closed down the shop or she would have to face a very depressed Tsugumi in the morning, something Maka knew would break her heart.

The night is starless. The moon is a sickle hanging over a curtain of black, clouds guttering its surface, steaming by in ghostly wisps. The air is cold and the snow that has slipped in her boots from her running is melting. She can feel the water sop her socks. Maka stops and shakes out a foot, gasping when the box nearly falls out of her arms. She sighs when she saves it in time, hearing the gift inside give a weak mew. Maka fixes the bow on the box and slows her pace when she notes it would just be a few more blocks before she reaches her apartment. Then she could stick the box under her tree and wait until morning to hand it to the little girl who'd made it tradition to burst into her apartment at 6 in the morning sharp and bellow Christmas.

"Ugh, Blair!" Maka growls to the kitty whose yowling loudly now. "I know it's cold but we're almost there! Shh!" She takes another step before she stops altogether. Her breath clouds around her mouth, sharp wisps with every in take of air. Maka turns, staring at an empty street.

But it wasn't empty before.

She _knows_ something is watching her. She can feel it, coming from the dark mouth of an alley. Her eyes stare at the dark that's too thick to be natural and the back of her neck pricks. She can sense something there with terrible clarity. She starts to take cautious steps back. The dark shifts the further away she moves but she knows those _things_ won't appear as long as she's looking at them.

That's how she usually deals with these demons.

Sometimes they get past the Evans manor, you see. She's seen them, when she looks toward that manor during her lunch break, racing up and down the hillside as if wanting to cross but too afraid to. But sometimes they cross and when they do, that's when the murders start. Bodies uncovered the next morning, maimed beyond recognition. Sometimes no body is found, just an imprint of blood and little signs of struggle. Sometimes people disappear without any trace. No one knows who does it and the townsfolk refuse to believe that the demons told in their tales might be to blame. It's because they're never seen, because they refuse to _be _seen by normal eyes.

No one ever looks hard enough.

But sometimes they go against their nature not to be seen, as Maka stares at the creature that emerges from the darkness, and sometimes the person really _is_ looking hard enough. Its black lips are pulled back in a snarl, lid-less eyes staring hungrily at her, Maka can sense its bloodlust in the way it growls and paws the ground with a skeletal, skinless, paw. It's a humongous dog, his back humped as it leans down and gives another predatory snarl. But it's not a normal dog: it's too big and normal dogs have a coat of fur, have _skin_. This mockery is skinless: giving view into its flexing red muscles and tendons, the blood that drizzles down its slick flesh to pool beneath. Maka thinks she sees bone in there, too, popping out from the sinews.

Blair gives a mew in the box.

The snarl that follows leaves Maka cold.

Maka tears the box open and picks the kitten up, tossing the box at the dog and running as the monster gives chase. She feels like she's gliding across the ice from how fast she's running, blood pulsing in her ears. But it's not loud enough to block out the hounds rabid barks. Maka takes a turn down a street, another turn and another until she arrives down a familiar path. The dogs snarling is faraway now but Maka doesn't stop running: she just takes another turn, knowing that if she keeps straight she'll make it to the parking lot of her apartment complex and she'll be able to escape the demon dog.

Blair gives a broken mew in her hand.

Then there's a loud bark above her and Maka screams when the dog lands on her back, Blair shooting out of her hand to land on the hard ground. The shaking kitten can only mew in terror as she slides to the wall, curled up against the corner as Maka fights the dog off her back. She strangles back a scream when it bites into her arm, its teeth piercing through the thick leather. But it doesn't get past the extra layers of clothes she has underneath though that doesn't mean she can't feel its teeth dig into her arm with every shake of its skinless, bleeding, head. Blood splats her cheek. It smells rotten, like meat left out for days under the sun.

She pushes the dog back as she sits up, lifting her foot to slam it into its face. It's barely deterred: it just gets a better grip on her arm, the leather starting to tear from the force. Blood gushes from between its canines, its eyeballs rolling up to meet hers hungrily.

"Get off me!" Maka screams, trying to tear her arm out of its grip. "Get off—ow!" Maka cries when it grinds its yellowed teeth into her arm as if savoring what's to come. "No – _OW!_"

"Hey,"

Maka snaps her eyes behind the dog, to the figure standing rather slouched under a wash of moonlight. From where she sits, the dog forcing itself on her, she thinks his hair is powder white like the snowed-in hills she admires from far away. The dog reacts to his voice, letting go with a violent bark. Maka squeals when it grabs her by the shoulder, dragging her away and keeping its body angled away from the man. It gives a challenging growl, stabbing a paw into Maka's elbow to keep her still.

"Don't move," he raises an arm and Maka watches him reach into his jacket and pull out the shaft of a scythe. She knows it's a scythe because the more he pulls the weapon out, the more it begins to take the shape of one. Then she sees the curved glint of metal, wickedly big and seeming to swim with blood under the deceiving light of the moon. "Lay down when I say so!"

Maka hisses when the dog yanks his head sideways, trying to tear through her coat.

"Now!"

Maka falls back, hitting her head hard on the ice. She sees the curve of the blade skim over her with a ghostly sweep and the dog gives a howl of pain before it vanishes in a swirl of black and red. And there, floating harmlessly on her arm, is the corrupted soul of the Kishin dog. Maka scrambles to sit up, kicking away the soul from her person with disgust. A terrified mew brings her attention to the poor, frail, kitten that's freezing to death against the brick wall.

"Blair!" Maka cries, crawling over to the kitten. She cradles her to her chest, hastily unbuttoning her coat to place her in something warm. Maka looks over her shoulder to the man who hasn't moved from his spot, the scythe and red soul mysteriously gone. Her coat is spotted red, the reek of decay still strong in her nostrils. "Th-thank you for saving me!" Maka breathes, standing up on shaky legs.

"How's your arm?" He asks instead.

She jerks to it, lifting it up. The leather is torn but not enough to puncture through the other layers. "It's fine! It couldn't bite through the leather," Maka informs, Blair poking her head out between the opening in her coat.

"Good. Because if it had bitten you, you would've died poisoned. And it's awfully costly to conjure up a cure if you'd have been bitten… _Maka_," he grins widely at the surprise on her face. He can read her fear and confusion and he wonders how long it'll take her to realize just who he is. Because this girl is different – he felt it, _saw_ _it_, when she dropped by his manor with a little human girl in her wake.

"How do you know my name," she demands.

"That hurts, Maka. After all, _you_ were the one who came to visit _me_."

She parts her lips in surprise. "You're the warlock."

"Bingo," he smirks. He steps into the light and his lip twitches when she openly stares at him. His shock of white hair, glowing red eyes, and serrated teeth. _It's a warlock alright,_ Maka weakly thinks. He looks relatively _human_ save for those abnormal traits but she knows warlocks are defined by these otherworldly characteristics. They vary but generally all warlocks, so the books she's read say, have abnormal iris color/hair color/skin color that can range from very general shades of black and brown to purple, red or even neon green. This warlock, thankfully, has a regular skin tone.

So she manages to pull on a smile and say, "So you _do_ come out after all."

"You can't expect me to be holed up in that house all day," he snorts. "It's _boring_."

"Then you just walk around saving people for entertainment?"

"Sometimes," he shrugs. A sly smile curls his lips. "But usually it's more fun to watch them get mauled."

"That's horrible!" Maka balks.

She knows he's rolled his eyes even though she can't see his face anymore, the shadows having reached him. It's just in his tone: "I was _kidding_."

"Well, it wasn't funny!" Maka huffs, fixing the kitten that's falling down her stomach inside her coat. It mews again, popping its head out for some air before diving back in.

"That cat was the reason that hell hound chased after you," he states, watching the fur-ball pop its head out again before disappearing. "If you'd have given it to it, it would've left you alone."

"Please tell me you're joking!" Maka glowers when he gives no indication he was. "This is Tsugumi's Christmas present! I wasted a lot of money just to get this kitten - I was _not_ going to toss her right into some demon dogs mouth! I'm not as heartless to do so, either," she adds with an accusing look in his direction.

"Tch, I was just _sayin_', in case you decide to buy another damn cat and give that one away, too. It might cost you your life next time – these hell hounds are all over the place," he states, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"They are?" Maka asks, nervously. "I've never seen one before…"

"That's because they don't usually attack humans," he answers. "They're scavengers. They like dead meat, or people who are close to dying. That's where they get their name from," he tells her. "It's why the butchers leave out rotted meat in the back. It gets eaten by these things in minutes. But they're dogs in nature, so when it heard your cat, you riled it up."

"Oh…" Maka mumbles, troubled. She looks down the path, frowning slightly. "Well, are there any around right now?"

"Yeah, around the corner. Why?"

Maka pales. "Because I still need to walk a lot to reach my apartment and I _really_ don't want to get attacked by one of those things again."

"Then I'd get going if I were you," he drawls, laughing when she groans softly in her throat and looks back down the seemingly empty street fearfully. "C'mon, I'll do you a favor and walk you back." He starts walking without her, passing by her with gleaming eyes.

Maka falls into step beside him, holding the kitten close to her chest. She isn't as rowdy as before, tired from all the excitement. She just sleeps soundly against her chest.

"Are you going to the Christmas party tomorrow?" Maka asks as they slowly make their way to her apartment. "Down by the square?"

"Parties aren't my thing," he replies, sparing her a glance. She notices his eyes are a much deeper red than she first thought. They're beautiful. "And I don't think I'd be very welcomed if I did."

"Tsubaki told me you can disguise yourself. Why don't you just do that?"

"Tires me out. Not worth it."

"I don't think anyone would try anything," she encourages. "You look normal except for…for your hair and your teeth and your eyes…"

"All defining characteristics in a human, Maka," he snorts. "Yeah, I'd fit right on in with the rest."

"Well, you could at least _try!_ It's a nice get together and it's a good way to relieve boredom!" Maka fires back. "Instead of stalking the streets at night saving random strangers from stupidly big dogs!"

"Hey! It was my _walking_ around," he sends her a look, "that saved your ass. So shut up and be grateful."

"I _am_ grateful," Maka sniffs. "But I'm _not_ going to shut up, you jerk, I'm entitled to my own opinion."

He growls and it sounds rather animalistic itself, the sound coming from his chest. It makes her shoulders tense because it reminds her of the growl of that hell hound and she wonders of the origins of warlocks again. She makes a mental note to look up more books in the library as he ignores her, both walking in silence until Maka breaks it again.

"Hey, what's your name?" She asks, curiously. "I know your surname is Evans but I don't know your first name."

He side glances her. "It's Soul Eater."

"Soul Eater Evans?"

"_No_. Just Soul Eater."

"Then where does the Evans part come in?"

"It doesn't," he simply says. "I discarded that name a long time ago. Now I just go by Soul Eater. You people like keeping to stories so you don't have your facts straight."

"Oh… how come?"

He turns and grins at her, revealing a frightening set of jagged teeth. Maka's eyes trace down a tooth filed to a point as he says, "You're smart. Take a guess."

"…what do they taste like?" Maka asks, softly. At his startled look, Maka hastily amends: "You - you eat them, right?" Because she very clearly remembers not finding that red orb where she'd tossed it. There could only be one other person who could have taken it and that person has given no indication to not liking souls. She knows there are warlocks who gather souls for their own magical needs and those who ate them for their own bodily needs. Considering his new name, Maka thinks wearily, Soul is one of the warlocks who _eats _souls.

"There isn't really a taste to define them with," he begins, slowly. "They just taste really, really good. But I wouldn't suggest you trying them: you'd be poisoned before you could even get the thing down," he flatly states even though Maka has no inclination to eating a _soul._

"So only you can eat them?"

"I eat them by choice. They're like energy drinks to me. Keeps me going for hours," he grins. Maka laughs a bit. "Weapons use them as level ups. Think of it like a video game: you collect certain items to grow stronger. In their case, it's corrupted souls."

"So there's a difference," Maka observes, having caught his specification. "It _has_ to be corrupted?"

"You can eat pure human souls," he shrugs. "But that would, in turn, slowly turn you into a Kishin because devouring innocent souls brings out the worst in people. Murdering the innocent is the heaviest sin you can commit. Death frowns upon it, so I don't do it. I'd rather not get on his bad side – that guys scary when he's pissed."

"Death?" Maka repeats, immensely curious now. _These_ are the things the books don't tell you!

"Lord Death – you met Death the Kid, right?" Soul asks, watching her nod her head firmly. He remembers: he was boggled a human like her even _knew_ what he was. It had definitely been an interesting night at the manor. "He's a special reaper. He's the son of the The Grim. Otherwise known as Lord Death."

"Wow… you must be pretty powerful to have a reaper like him on your side," Maka whispers, staring at him.

"Scared?" He taunts.

"More curious," Maka admits and he deflates.

"I wouldn't call myself strong so much as good at blackmailing people," Soul replies smoothly, grinning at her wide-eyed look. "Kid's a little special, aside from being son to The Grim, let's leave it at that."

They fall back into silence, Maka digesting his words and Soul gazing up at the sky, until they reach her apartment's parking lot. The kitten, by now, has woken up and keeps trying to crawl out of her coat. It mews and yowls, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand at the hushed growls that echo from the darkness. But Soul doesn't seem the slightest bit disturbed by them so she doesn't let them get to her much.

"This is it," Maka announces, standing just a few steps away from the hall that'll take her to her apartment. "Thanks for walking me all the way home, Soul."

"No problem. Try not to get eaten alive next time, alright? I don't usually go out at night."

"So you come out during the day?" Maka asks, perking up.

"There's more to do during the day."

"What were you doing out tonight, then?"

He deliberates her question for a bit before smirking, revealing a sharp fang. "That's none of your business, angel."

Maka pinks at the pet name but quickly scowls. "C-call me that again and I'll break your teeth!"

He grins to reveal all of his teeth. "Just try, pigtails."

"Call me _that _again and I seriously will!" Maka shouts, lip pulled back in a growl. The kitten in her coat mews, struggling to escape its sweltering confinement to no avail.

"Huh, that's a pretty good imitation of a dog, Maka. You'd make those hell hounds run for their money with a little more practice!" He cackles as he dodges a punch from her, acknowledging that if he hadn't he'd probably be in a lot of pain at the moment. Just by the swift sound of her fist, he knows she's got some muscle under all that thick wool. "Chill out, I was just messing around!"

"What are you? Ten? Grow up, Soul!"

"I _have_ but that doesn't mean I can't play around, you old hag!" he scoffs and laughs harder when she flushes red. She shouts in outrage and manages a chop on his head, shouting at him for his disrespectful ways. But he just grins and bears it because this is probably the most fun he's had since he moved into that blasted old manor all those years ago.


	4. New Years

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_New Years._

"Use her soul."

Soul swivels his chair to face the reaper, his hands resting on his stomach. Kid looks no different than usual, always dressed in that pitch black suit of his that makes him appear more ghostly than intimidating. He thinks that he won't ever manage the level of threat his father possesses but he keeps these thoughts to himself as he says, "Are you telling me to rip out an innocent girls soul for my own selfish needs?" He snorts and turns back to the fireplace, watching it with a leisure that makes Kid want to cull his soul. "That's a first. Are you really _that_ miserable in this house? I thought you adjusted already."

"Do you honestly think you can hold _me, _a God of Death, captive any longer than you already have?" Kid hisses.

Soul thinks about it and grins. "Yes."

Kid's eyes darken. "I serve no one but my own. The only reason I am serving you is because of my..._problem_," he grimaces and Soul hums in reply, knowing only too well of his debilitating OCD and the incident that followed, which plunged the reaper into this life of servitude in the first place. "However, I have fulfilled what I promised. I no longer owe you anything."

"Maybe so but _I_ owe _you_ something."

"Use her soul. Give it to me and your debt shall be absolved," Kid tells him, simply. "You owe me 100 corrupt human souls in exchange for command of the hounds. They're yours now," Kid says this with an edge, a tone that tells Soul he is not happy with it. He shouldn't be, too, he had literally made the hell hounds his familiars, Soul thinks. They are his to command and to train now. It's irritating trying to train and gather them in one place but he had only been made master of them for a few years. He understands this will take time. After all, he needs them: the hounds are the reason the town had a low Kishin rate. They aided him in various other things as well; Soul would not trade the hounds for anything else, even if the dogs got on his last nerves sometimes. And even if there were dogs like the the one that attacked Maka, those rebellious mutts who refuse to bow down to his authority. "However, I can still take them back. You only have sixty eight souls. You owe me _thirty two_ souls."

"It's still more than half," he defends.

"Why do you refuse to use her soul?" Kid asks, straight-forwardly.

"There's no need to be hasty."

"It has never stopped you before."

"Maybe I want to _think_ things through this time. Rushing in head-first has never worked out for me and _you're_ the one who always tells me to think before I act," Soul coolly deflects.

"Convenient how you decide to take my advice _now_ of all times," Kid sarcastically says and uncrosses his arms from his chest. He leans off the wall and heads for the door. "Don't be a fool. You won't be able to resonate with _her_."

Soul's tone his dark, with an edge that warns him not to overstep his boundaries. "...What makes you so sure?"

"Grigori souls are on a completely different standard than human souls. They're angelic souls and very rare. As such, there are many things we've yet to discover about them. But one thing we _do_ know is their resonance rate and, I can assure you now, only a handful of people around the world can connect to her soul properly. There are not many who can adjust their wavelength to such a powerful soul and _yours_," Kid wrinkles his nose in disdain. "You would be lucky to even be able to catch a _glimpse_ of her soul. It's too pure for the likes of you. You'll twist it."

"Taking an angels soul is a heavier sin than slaying a regular human soul," Soul begins. "Y'know, being down here, surrounded by all these humans, it's done you no good. You know the reason your father allows me to lord over you," his lips stretch back in a snarl reminiscent of a hounds and red eyes spark fiercely, "You haven't learned humility. You haven't even _bothered_ to understand the things you will protect one day. You think you can be Grim with the type of mentality you have now? You're out of your fucking mind."

"Don't speak about things you don't understand!"

"I understand them far better than you do!"

"Just because you've had some interaction with them here and there does not mean you understand them," Kid patronizes.

"The soul is something that can only be understood by _Gods_," Soul spits. "I'm not God but there is a reason your father favors me over the others. Keep telling yourself that he doesn't but _why else_ do you think he hasn't fetched you yet? Do you think the most powerful being on this entire planet can't retrieve his own _son _from a warlock?"

Kid draws himself up straight, shouting: "Father has his reasons for not retrieving me but surely his reasons are not that infantile! I _understand_ how the world works and I know that balance is the only way to achieve the nirvana that Father wishes for!"

"_Balance?_" Soul laughs, disbelief in his eyes. "You think that you can change this world that easily? Do you _really_ believe it's that simple, to fix the world?"

Kid replies simply and confidently, "Yes, with the right strategy."

Soul scoffs in incredulity. "You're the stupidest God of Death I've ever met. At this rate, you'll never be like your father!" He directs burning red eyes to him. "So stop pretending you are because we both know that if he handed his title over to you at this instant, you'd ruin it beyond repair. You can't control what you don't understand!" He points to the door, red eyes burning like coals. "You're next in line to be Grim. Life isn't something you can just give and take. It doesn't work that way. So don't you _ever_ tell me to take her soul again or I'll make sure you can't speak to save you future embarrassment. Now _get out_."

Kid obeys but not out of his own will, heading down the hall toward his own room with resentment brewing in his chest. Soul shifts his eyes to the mantle place as the door closes by itself, a resounding slam that does nothing to bring his own rage down to a simmer. The sheer thought of doing such a horrendous thing to Maka makes him balk; there is absolutely no way he would ever be able to do that, to draw his scythe upon her and cull her soul. Although a grigori soul would fulfill his debt, he would rather collect one thousand corrupt souls than take the easy way out.

Soul reaches over for a bottle of wine, popping the top and pouring himself a glass. He knows that with the mood he has set up tonight, there will be no celebration downstairs. He is willing to bet that Tsubaki will cautiously rap her knuckles on his door right before the hour of the New Year; a weak attempt to reconcile he and Kid again. But there will always be hostile tension between them, always until Kid can understand the reason he is under his rule and not his fathers.

But at the rate he is going, actually proposing he _cull_ the soul of an innocent girl _just_ to set himself free from his rule, Soul is willing to bet it will take a lot longer than what Lord Death had said it would. With this in mind, Soul heaves a sigh and takes a drink of his wine, reclining in his chair and wondering just what the angel-girl was up to on the night before the new year.


	5. St Valentine's Day

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_St. Valentine's Day_

"Makaaaa!" Tsugumi screeches as she races down the sidewalk, her mother struggling to keep up. The little girl is relentless: shoving past people, dodging around whole crowds, ducking between legs to crawl one step closer to her role model Maka Albarn. She can vaguely hear her mother shriek for her to stop her stampede but Tsugumi is too determined to reach her friend to pay her any heed. "Makaaaa—_oof!_"

"Hey! Watch it, you brat!"

Tsugumi stares when she regains her balance, her goal put on pause. She can see filed teeth poke out from between his lips and her eyes shakily rise to stare into burning red ones that threaten to melt her with their ire. His hair is spiked back, a blinding white, and his leather jacket reminds Tsugumi of the one Maka has stashed away in her closet for colder seasons. But somehow it looks more intimidating on him.

"You…." Tsugumi breathes, staring at his otherworldly features. "What _are_ you?"

His eyes slit and a sinister grin replaces his scowl. "I don't think you want to know."

Tsugumi feels cold.

"TSUGUMI! What have I told you about running off like that?" Her mother scolds breathlessly, seizing her wrist before she could escape again. "I am so sorry about that, sir! You know kids these days!" She laughs weakly when all he does is glower, not amused.

"Your hair is white!" Tsugumi blurts out.

Her mother looks at her strangely. "What are you going off about now, Tsugumi? He doesn't have white hair – it's black."

"No…it's white! Look, mommy, it's white! Can't you see it?"

Her mother sighs. "Tsugumi, I don't have time for this. Mommy is very late for an appointment with the dentist and I'm sure Maka's lunch break is almost up, so if you would apologize to this man—!"

Suddenly, Tsugumi remembers why she stampeded through the afternoon traffic of people. She shouts her friends name in realization and yanks her hand out of her mothers grasp, heading down to the local café where Maka always had her lunch. This time her mother is less frantic to follow her, as they're close-by. Tsugumi trips into the café's doors but not before glancing over her shoulder at the strange man with the feral teeth and dark eyes.

He's still standing there, watching her as her mother apologizes for her and ducks after her daughter. Tsugumi swallows nervously before pushing the door open, her heart-shaped box of candies tucked under her arm safely.

"Maka!" Tsugumi shouts when she finds her friend standing up from her table, ready to throw her trash out. "MAKA!"

"Tsugumi?" Maka turns, surprised. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

"My mommy took me out of lunch so I can give ya' _this!_" Tsugumi joyously shoves a heart-shaped box under her nose. Warmth invades Maka's chest at the loving innocence that gleams in her little friends eyes. "Happy Valentine's day, Maka!"

"Oh, Tsugumi, that's so sweet! Thank you so much!" Maka laughs, taking the box from her. She kneels down and envelops the little girl in her arms, squeezing her as Tsugumi laughs and hugs her as tightly as her bony arms allow her. "Happy Valentine's day to you, too." She kisses her cheek and giggles, the little girl beaming up at her while she stands. "C'mon, your mama is probably looking all over for you again. You have to stop running off on her like that!"

"Okay!" She giggles but Maka knows Tsugumi won't keep to her word when another reason to run off comes around. As they approach the door, the little girl sobers up and digs her heels into the floor. "No…wait, let's go another way," she says, staring uncomfortably down the sidewalk.

Maka frowns. "Why? I can see your mom from here."

"Because… there's a scary man over there!" She drops her voice another level. "The one with white hair and red eyes..."

Maka's back straightens and her heart picks up at the thought of seeing him again. She searches the crowd carefully for a head of white but all she can see is blacks and browns. Maka furrows a brow and looks back down at Tsugumi, who is staring straight ahead and to what Maka presumes is the 'white-haired, red-eyed' man. "Can you point him out to me, Tsugumi?"

"Uh huh! He's the one standing next to the flower shop, next to that lady!"

Maka finds him instantly. He is _not_ as she remembers him from Christmas Eve – with startling white hair, burning ember eyes, and a grin to match. He's black-haired, black-eyed, with normal teeth that practically sparkle with his mirth when he grins at her absolute bafflement. So _this_ was his disguise, she thinks to herself, which actually wasn't half-bad all things considered. She smiles down at the little girl, tugging Tsugumi down the sidewalk.

"It's okay. He won't hurt you, Tsugumi!" But she wonders why Tsugumi could see him for his true self. Maka's eyes dart to a six year old girl whose pointing fervently at Soul, yanking on her mama's hand. Her mother brushes her off after taking a glance at him. This makes Maka believe that his guise does not work on children.

"No wonder I can never find you," Maka comments when she's in ear-shot. Soul is leaning back against the window of the flower-shop. There's a sale on roses: three for five dollars. Maka can see Tsugumi's mom wave at her from the inside the shop before she continues to pick out flowers for her husband. "You look like everyone else! You look normal!"

"You've been looking for me? I'm touched," Soul teases. While Maka see's a normal grin with straight white teeth, Tsugumi shrinks back as she can clearly see his demonic teeth poking out of his mouth. She tugs on Maka's hand in a hurry.

"Don't flatter yourself!" Maka snorts, casting a look at a fidgety Tsugumi. "Although I'm wondering why Tsugumi can see you for what you are and no one else can."

"I'm too lazy to cast the full spell," Soul drawls, dismissing her suspicions. "So I guess I'm gonna' be scaring little brats like her all day."

"Hey! I'm not a brat!" Tsugumi angrily shouts.

Soul sneers, revealing fangs, and she cries out and hides behind Maka.

"Soul, quit it!" Maka scolds. "She's just a child!"

"Tch, that'll teach her to raise her voice at an adult," he scoffs, unapologetic. His eyes trail down to the heart-shaped box Maka has under her arm. A grin quirks his lips. "A box of chocolates. What's the occasion?"

"It's Valentine's day!"

Soul grimaces. "Oh, _that_ day. Maybe that's why I've been getting so much crap lately."

Some of Maka's smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"I was wondering why I kept getting chocolates and cards," he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box of chocolates wrapped in pink silk with hearts decorating the cover. He tears the ribbon off, popping a morsel into his mouth. "Forgot today was that stupid holiday."

"_You_ actually have admirers?"

"In case you haven't noticed," he begins, haughtily, "I'm kind of a _big deal_ around here."

"You are not!" Maka snorts. Rather haughty herself, she smirks: "I bet if those girls got one look at how you _really_ looked like, they'd go running the other way!"

That effectively kills his buzz. "Shuddup, no one asked for your opinion!" He bristles when she grins at him and he spits: "What about you? I bet that's the only thing you've gotten this entire day!" At her dark look, Soul regains his buzz with a vengeance. "What, guys don't have a thing for _pigtails_?" He mocks and she's about to shove her box down his throat when Tsugumi makes herself known again:

"Nu uh! That's not true! Maka's really pretty and-and NICE AND EVERYONE LIKES HER! And Maka's gonna' be asked out by Hiro today and she's gonna' say _yes _so you're wrong!" Tsugumi defends her, gasping and slapping a hand over her mouth immediately after.

"What?" Maka squawks. "Who told you that, Tsugumi?"

Guiltily, she confesses: "Hiro did… he wanted me to give you this, too." She reaches into her pocket and takes out an envelop. Soul watches silently as Maka reveals two tickets, her face softening considerably at what they were for. "And he also told me to tell you to meet 'em in the front at five."

"_Oh_…" Maka murmurs, troubled.

"What're they for?" Soul asks.

"A play," she replies, rather lost in thought. "I've wanted to go for the past two weeks but I hadn't been able to get tickets because the evening shows sell out quickly. But he managed to get some, on Valentine's day, too…"

"Are you going? Huh, huh?" Tsugumi eagerly asks, unable to suppress an beaming smile when Maka's looks at her with uncertainty. "Hiro is really, _really_ nice! And he really, really likes you, Maka! I promise he does!"

"Oi, don't go making promises for other people!" Soul snaps at her, scaring her with a furious look. He looks up at Maka with more calm as she slips the tickets back into the envelop. "Looks pretty sure you'll go if he gave you his ticket as well. Are you?"

"I can't just reject him after all the trouble he went through to get these," Maka sighs. "Besides, it can't hurt to give him _one_ chance…"

"Yay!" Tsugumi cheers, hugging Maka around the waist happily. "Wear that black dress you have! It's so pretty! You'll look _so_ pretty in it, Maka!" Tsugumi insists, looking up at her with those shining marble black eyes of hers.

Maka smiles as she slips the envelop in her blazers inner pocket. "That's a good idea. I haven't worn it since I bought it!"

"A little black dress wouldn't match the occasion, Maka," Soul cuts in blandly. Maka purses her lips at his disdainful tone. "It's not even a formal venue. Don't try too hard. Seriously."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's just a regular dress! It's nothing fancy!" At his innocent but moody shrug, Maka scowls. "It's just a _play_, Soul, it's not like this is going to define the rest of my life!"

"See, that's where you're wrong," Soul drawls, sounding wiser than he lets off. Tsugumi hides behind Maka again, wide-eyed as Soul steps into his friends personal space and leans down dangerously close. Then Tsugumi catches sight of the single bloody red rose he's been hiding behind him all along, the scent so poignant and sweet the girl can smell it from where she stands so small.

"It's those small moments you end up remembering for the rest of your life," he breaths against her lips and Tsugumi sees him grin when all Maka can do is stand there and stare in reply. She watches as the rose is pressed into Maka's limp hand, his fingers closing hers around the stem, and such an intimate moment passes between them that the little girl doesn't know what to make of it yet. She doesn't understand it, the intensity between them. Then, just like that, the moment is severed and Soul has already pivoted on his heel and walked the other way, waving a lazy wave and saying something about seeing her later.

"Maka?" Tsugumi whispers, bewildered by what has just happened. "Are you okay? What did he do?"

"Y-yes, I'm fine!" Maka rasps out belatedly and clears her throat right after. When Maka smiles down at her, Tsugumi notices her face is heavily flushed and she looks dazed. "I-I'm just fine, Tsugumi. Let's go find your mom – I'm going to be late for work!"

But Tsugumi notices the rose is held tightly in her hand the entire way and, when asked about the tickets Hiro bought her, she pressed the rose petals to her lips thoughtfully, that same hue of pink on her cheeks every time she did.


	6. St Patrick's Day

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_St. Patrick's Day_

She can see him perfectly from where she sits, surrounded by a boisterous crowd of women and men. There's no mistaking that color of hair, that familiar twinkle of his eyes. It's _him_ and she can feel resentment bubble in her chest when a brunette reaches over to touch his hand with dainty fingers, laughing a too-loud laugh and smiling a too-wide smile. He flips his hand to meet her fingers in reply.

He's played this game before. He's played it so many times Maka is surprised he hasn't grown bored of it. She watches him lean toward her, their knees brushing. His glass is uninteresting now, many things will not capture his attention at this stage, and the television that roars with a hockey game is completely unheard by them. It very quickly becomes a game of chicken with them, with neither willing to back down from the other, and the heat in their eyes has grown with their smiles and she feels sick to her stomach as she watches them, just _sick_—!

"Liz, can we just go to another bar? Please?" Maka pleads, holding her cup with two hands glumly. The whiskey glimmers under the bar lights, highlighting the drink a thousand colors of gold. She doesn't even like whiskey. It's too strong for her. But it was Liz's turn to choose the drinks and, given the day it was today, Liz was not taking anything less than the strongest liquor available.

"_No_, Maka! For the last time, we're staying here!" Liz sighs for the umpteenth time. She glances over at the man whose getting lucky tonight and adds, "You can't let him control you like this. You're going to have to accept that he's just a dead-beat dad and he won't change no matter how much he says he will!"

"He's _not _controlling me!" Maka spits, taking a fierce drink of her whiskey. Ice rattles in the glass when she slams it down. Then she shudders and regrets taking such a long drag.

"Yes, he is," Liz sighs again. Sympathy softens her eyes and she squeezes her shoulder at her friends obvious misery. "Maka, look at yourself. You've been miserable since you noticed he was here! We both know he saw you – he kept looking back here in the beginning. He knows you're here and yet he's _still_ doing it. If he can ignore you, why can't you ignore him?"

"I _am_ ignoring him—!"

"If you were really ignoring him, we wouldn't be talkin' about him right now," Liz knowingly says, taking a drink of her vodka tonic. "Look, just relax, alright? Do that for me. It's St Patty's day – all you gotta' do is focus on getting trashed. Here – hey! Bartender! Get me another refill over here!" Liz calls, shaking Maka's cup in the air. "Just try to have a good time, please, Maka, for me?"

"...Alright. I'll _try_," Maka sighs.

"That's all I'm asking for today," Liz smiles and turns back to her rowdy sister, barking for a light as she slips another cigarette between her lips. Maka just swirls around her second glass of whiskey, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave. It would likely when she could barely walk straight, Maka grimaces, and watches as Liz finishes another vodka tonic with lavish before she moves onto something a little harder.

It's not that she's boring enough not to like going out to bars sometimes, especially since Liz invited her with the hopes that they could get to know each other better. But Maka would have been a little more thrilled if she could have ignored the fact that she still had _work_ tomorrow and ditching her shift because she was hungover would only drag her into humongous trouble. Liz and Patty may not care if they're yelled at by their manager but Maka did, and she'd rather not have to face that situation as she takes a small drink from her glass.

The night straightens out something nice when her father finally leaves with that brunette tucked under his arm like a trophy. In the hours that follow, Liz has given up trying to get her drunk and has moved on to a handsome man who keeps giving her long looks from across the room. Patty has inhaled a bowl of chips, a twelve pack of beer, and is _still_ chugging beer down with another friend laughing by her side. The inside of the bar is rowdy and loud as more and more people file in to drink their minds numb on this special holiday.

Maka's on her third glass of whiskey.

She's more than buzzed. It's a quiet, content, hum inside of her with every slow drink of her glass. She's also gotten a little careless: she just smiles at the bartender when he ambles over to her and pours more whiskey into her half-empty glass, on the sisters tab he would mutter every time. She wouldn't say this was her fourth glass, not yet, but when she reaches the half-way point again, _then _she thinks she's on her fourth glass and should probably take it easy.

"Neh, Maka!" Patty coos, blowing smoke in her face. "Wanna' smoke?"

"No, thanks, Patty."

"Aww, c'mon! Don't be a party pooper!" Patty whines, scooting over a seat. Her dress has rode up her thighs, flashing milk white skin to those who care. Maka's own dress reaches little past mid-thigh but it's a comfortable black dress. Not too tight, not too loose; not too short, not too long. Conservative yet coy. It's why she likes this dress so much and why she doesn't want to stink it up with cigarette smoke. "Just once, pwease?"

"I'm fine," Maka assures. "Just finish it yourself, or leave it in the ashtray if you don't want it anymore."

"Nooo, I still want it! But I need'ta go to the bathroom and I can't brin' it in there!" Patty whines, shaking her shoulder. The motion is making everything else move in unnatural ways, like ripples in water. It's disorienting. "Makaaa!"

"Okay, I'll hold it for you! Just stop shaking me, it's making my head hurt," Maka closes her eyes to regain a semblance of balance. As Patty skips over to the bathroom with a happy laugh, Maka holds the cigarette between her fingers and doesn't make one move to smoke it. She doesn't like the aftertaste. It's a rancid, bitter taste of nicotine that she doesn't enjoy washing out because washing it out only seems to make it stick even more. She just takes another sip of her drink, watching threads of smoke disappear into the air. The entire bar stinks of cigarette smoke and perfume but all Maka can smell is _this_ cigarette's smoke and _her drink_ as it runs down her throat with a burn she can barely feel now.

It feels like forever before Patty comes back from the bathroom.

Maka has already snubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"ONE MORE ROUND, PETE!" Patty cackles. Somewhere within the bar, Liz is wrestling tongues with that handsome man. The bartender has poured her another glass. That girl who keeps Patty company is moaning her misery out on the table, her fingers loosely curled around the neck of a beer. That guy who keeps yapping about auto-mechanics and torques? He's chatting up some girl with unsuccessful results. And that guy who Liz said needed to get laid? He's walking out with some black-haired woman about half his size and who looks like she could use a crutch because she's falling all over the place.

And the bartender pours more whiskey into her glass.

She doesn't remember how many glasses she's had.

She doesn't even _finish_ this glass – she feels so gone that she _can't lift it_ without spilling some on herself. She can barely sit straight: she's slouched over on the bar table like that girl beside Patty is. Her elbows messily keeping her up, her bladder screaming for release, Maka groans because she knows she's gone overboard this time and fallen right into Liz's trap. She'll have to stop drinking, maybe walk around a bit so the alcohol in her body cycles through. But that's the thing about getting drunk: it all makes sense in your head but when you try to put it into action, it all falls apart.

Maka wobbles when she stands. Her heels are low, easy enough to navigate in sober. But it's a challenge to even walk over to the next table when hammered, and to reach the aisle and guide her way to the bathrooms by leaning heavily against the wall seems impossible at first. Some people turn to look at her but they look away after a shake of their heads, going back to their conversation about who gives a _shit_. Maka just wants to reach the bathroom before she humiliates herself.

"Shit," she slurs under her breath. Maka groans as she slides down to a knee, holding her head up in her hand. Everything's swaying and wrong. She's not having a good trip, Maka grimaces to herself, because this alcoholic coma she's drunk herself into isn't helping her feel any more relaxed than if she's stuck in a classroom taking a high-stakes exam.

She tries twice to stand up, succeeding the third time. She rests against the wall, face hot, body hotter and limbs so heavy. She wants to sleep but she needs to take a serious piss. Maka wonders how she'll get back home once she manages to take that piss. Liz is going home with that hot guy, Patty doesn't look like she'll stop anytime soon, she doesn't know that girl whose probably passed out on the table by now, and she doesn't want to try her luck with that loser who can't even chat up a girl right.

By the time she manages to take a leak and walk back out into the narrow hall, Maka feels the full effects of the whiskey knock her down a notch or two. She rubs her eyes out, drowsy, and decides getting away from the loud scenery of the bar is what she needs. So she slides down the wall, drawing her knees up with a sigh. It feels better to just sit down and stay still. She's going to have to wait out the effects before she can get anywhere _near_ the bar's exit. She wonders about her father and sours, nails digging into her skin. She doesn't want to know where that fool had decided to call home for the night.

She sits there for some time, feeling better and better the longer she relaxes, no longer dizzy or nauseous, just contently plastered, until she hears a humming that stops dead at the sight of her. Probably another person going to take a piss – she's heard around _ten_ of them overall. This ones different, however, because she hears them kneel down and call her out of her haze. Once he starts shaking her shoulder, calling her name out more frantically, does she respond.

"'Aye, quit it! I'm_ awake!_" Maka opens her until they're half-lidded and blinks a few times when she sees bright red staring back. She squints. "Soul?"

"Maka, are you _drunk_?" He hisses, incredulous. "What the _hell_ are you doing here? Are you alright? Hey! Wake up!" He snaps a finger in her face, aggravated and concerned. She looks completely hammered – barely coherent, barely _conscious_. This worries him greatly – just how much had she drank? Was she even alright? Did she over-drink? He doesn't want to think what some creep could've done with her if he hadn't spotted her! She can barely talk, much less defend herself if worst came to worst.

"It's a holiday!"

"So? That doesn't mean you should go out and drink yourself dead!"

"I'm not dead," she stubbornly insists and Soul slits his eyes at her. Maka scoots away from him and asks, "What are you doing out anyway? Thought you hated crowds..."

Soul smirks, his eyes flickering to the left. Just around the bend was a group of midgets who had the things he needed to reinforce the spells around this dreary town, among other things. But today was a day of drink and Soul was more than pleased to know how far a couple of shots could get him when it came to bargaining with the vicious little leprechauns.

"I'm doing my job, for your information. Not getting plastered for no good reason."

Maka flinches and shrinks a little, something that makes his tone soften.

"Guess it's alright, you work too hard anyway," he mutters and smiles faintly when she makes a noise in the back of her throat, looking up at him hopefully. "Just don't do it alone, it's not safe."

"Okay," she says, hushed. Soul takes her hand and pulls her up, steadying her when she nearly fell back. "Give me a moment...wha' time's it?"

"It's two in the morning."

"Oh, no!" She groans, slumping further down the wall. Soul made sure she stayed standing, however. "I 'ave _work_ tomorrow!"

"You're not going to work when you're _this_ drunk, Maka," Soul deadpans. "You're going to have a killer hangover tomorrow. If you even wake up on time."

Maka groans. "Great….I guess I'll have to wai' it out."

"Wait it out?" Soul rose a brow. "Did you drive yourself here?"

"No," she mumbles. "Liz brought me here…but she's probably wit' that guy. Patty's…I dunno' where she is. I was gonna' walk it back home, when m'feel better..."

"You're not walking anywhere alone," Soul tells her, sternly. "I'm taking you back home. I'm done with my errands, anyway."

"You don't '_ave_ to…" She mumbles tearfully but he's already securing her arm around his neck, placing his other hand firm on her hip. He walks her out of the narrow hall she'd taken refuge in with mutters of being troublesome under his breath. Ahead, Maka can still hear Patty's raucous laughter. But during the hazy one-over of the bar scene, she can see no Liz and the bar has drained of costumers. It's only a handful of them in there, one of them being Patty and her small pack of friends.

It's cold outside, but it feels nice against Maka's flushed skin. When Soul manages to get himself stationed on his motorcycle, he sits her in the space between his legs. Maka _wants_ to tug her dress down her thighs but instead she pokes her fingers into Soul's chest and giggles that he feels like stone and, upon swaying closer to him, smells_ really good_, much to his amusement. The snarl of the bike is loud, the wind pricking her skin colder than ice. But it feels good, all of these sounds and sensations further plunging her into a lull. As an added bonus, Soul smells delicious; refreshing, like the ocean breeze, and she can't get enough of it.

"What apartment number?" Soul asks, after he managed to drag her off his bike and hold her upright. She looks about ready to pass out as she slurs it out. "Jeez, Maka, what'd you drink?" He catches a whiff of her, a mixture of flowers and whiskey.

"Jack," Maka proves his suspicions correct. She has the decency to look meek as she adds, "I lost count."

"Well, by the looks of it, more than three," he mutters, gripping her waist and pulling her up the stairs swiftly. She silently marvels his strength: her feet haven't touched the floor once! She distantly wonders if abnormal strength came with being a warlock. She prods his chest, his arms, his stomach, and only stops when he grabs her hand and dryly asks what she is doing.

"M'trying to see...if you work out or it's just a warlock thing."

"Ever thought of _asking_?"

Maka blinks. "Oh. Um, is it a warlock thing?"

Soul grins haughtily and says, "Nope. I work out."

Maka nods understandingly. "So it _is_ a warlock thing!"

"Wha...shut up, Maka, you're drunk!" He steams and ignores her snorting giggles. "Please tell me you got keys on you 'cause I'm not breaking in," he flatly tells her.

Maka fingers the hem of her dress. She looks up at him sternly and says: "Don't look!" She bends over so he can't see and lifts her dress up. She unclips the keys off the elastic band of her underwear, quickly smoothing her dress down.

"Neat hiding spot," Soul dryly comments, having caught her lowering her dress. He hides a grin because he's seen her underwear and he's not surprised it's a plain pale pink; no lace, no designs, or bows. How boring, but he's not disappointed by the perfect ass shot she had given him. "Give them to me – you can barely walk, like hell can you unlock a door."

He kicks her door wide open and shuts it with his foot, taking a quick scope of the place. It's pretty normal, for a human, with a sectional couch taking most of the space in the living room, her television modestly housed in cherry wood with intricate rose carvings on the edges. Her ceiling fan is on, spinning lazily, and as he walks her to her room, he spots two whole bookcases filled to the brim with books toward the west walls. The rest is layered with shadows, not that it's much of an issue for his sight.

He actually sees better during the night.

"_Mmm_, _hey_, _Soul_," she purrs in his ear and he stiffens. He forgets how grabby Maka is when she's plastered. He can feel her fingers lazily scratch into his chest, her chest pressing against his arm suggestively. "_You smell good,_" she breaths and the drowsy moan that follows sends heat straight down to his loins. Before things can get more out of hand, he tosses her on the bed and steps back.

Maka falls on her bed with a sigh of relief, oblivious to Soul's inner struggle. She rolls on her back, propping herself up enough to toe off her heels. Soul silently watches her stretch until her back cracks with satisfaction, her nimble hands rubbing her eyes out sleepily. The dress captures the curves of her body and it has ridden up to her thighs daringly, revealing more than it should. Her hair is half-way up, the rest tied in a messy ponytail. She looks so edible, all flushed and dazed and sultry, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and a soft pout on her pink lips.

He can't believe she has a boring job at the bank. Someone who looks ready to eat, giving him that sexy little grin that sets his teeth on edge, calculates payments and stores money in vaults. She eats a simple lunch by the café and she returns to her tedious job for another four hours before hiking it back home with a drag in her steps and a weary frown on her face, only to get pounced on by that stupid human girl. That's another three hours gone while she entertains her.

She deserves a break, Soul thinks.

She works too hard.

"Go to sleep, Maka," Soul tells her, turning away from her. He notices a clock on her nightstand and flicks the alarm on. "I'll leave a remedy for you on the table. Drink it, no matter how foul it tastes, and you'll be as good as new."

"_M'kay_..." Maka yawns. She rolls on her side and cuddles her pillow. "Thanks, Soul."

He just shuts the door to her room quietly.


	7. Easter

**Someday**_  
_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

_Easter._

"_This is not fair!_" Maka hisses under her breath, angry at herself for caving so easily. She uses the side of the shell to adjust herself in a more comfortable position inside the _giant egg_ they'd trapped her in for Death City's Annual Easter Scavenger Hunt. It was ironic how taken her fellow co-worker had become with her after one night of heavy drinking, Maka thinks wearily. If drinking until your head rolled off your shoulders was the way to make friends, Maka would surely have no more than Liz Thompson and her sister Patty. Maka looks up at the deep slits they'd cut into the shell to allow her to breathe and sighs. It looked like such a wonderful day out, too. It was a nice day to go hunting for Easter eggs or to curl up on her couch with a book and some tea. She would even go as far as to say it was a day to frolic in the park and bathe under the warm spring sunlight like a lazy cat. It was a day to do anything, _anything_ but _this_ that she had been goaded into doing.

Maka looks down at herself: the black ballerina one piece they'd crammed her into, along with sheer black pantyhose upon her insistence. She can feel her bunny tail every time she shifts, her gray floppy ears brush her cheek whenever she sighed. She fidgets with the cufflinks attached to white gloves on her hands, wondering when someone will finally gather up enough hints and find where they'd stashed her.

It was all Liz and Patty's idea.

It was _always _Liz and Patty's idea, she'd come to realize.

They had been in charge of this years Easter hunt and the mayor had been melancholic at the thought of not many of the citizens taking part in the festive activities. So they thought it would be a _swell_ idea to cram an innocent, well-adjusted, productive member of society into an _egg_, in what one would readily identify as a _Playboy_ _bunny knockoff_, and scatter hints and clues of her whereabouts throughout the town of Death City. Liz had told her many men and women had _paid_ (Maka's first clue that Liz was doing this more to rack up cash than out of holiday cheer) big bucks to participate in. But that _did not_ mean Maka wanted to be the _prize_ in the competition if the winner happened to be _male_! Or, god, female if she asked! Maka knows there is another person stuck in the same miserable situation as her, incentive for girls to go out on a mad hunt. But this wasn't what she signed up for! Even if Liz insisted they'd be there for her and the winner would only get a picture and a hug with her, Maka hadn't wanted to be apart of this anymore than she wanted to be apart of that Thanksgiving Pie Throwing Contest they'd suckered her into a year ago, before they were even real friends!

Liz had a way of commanding attention, Maka had to admire her for it. When she was motivated, nothing could stop her! Maka exhales again and slumps against the curve of the egg. It was hot inside despite the cuts they'd made to the shell of the plastic egg. It was more than enough to breathe but not enough to cool her off. It had been at least an hour since they stuffed her into the egg. How could no one find her yet? How much longer would she have to suffer through this? It was a giant _egg_ in a middle of a clearing! How could no one find it?

She'd been on the verge of trying to break out of the egg herself when she heard footsteps approach her. Maka stills, holding her breath. The footsteps go around her, a sigh catching her attention. Then she feels someone push the egg sideways and she screams.

"H-hey, not so rough—!" she squeaks when the egg cracks open and she comes tumbling out. "Ouch...nice going, genius!" Maka snaps, crawling to her knees. "You could have been more gen—Soul?" She gapes, her face draining at the wide grin when he realizes just _what_ she's dressed up as. His dream come true, Maka bitterly thinks.

"Nice outfit. Trying out for Playboy, Maka? You might actually have a chance."

She flushes red and wraps her arms around herself in an effort to retain her last shred of dignity. "Wh-what the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!"

"I'm winning the game, what's it look like?" He drawls. He holds up two smaller eggs, which contain the hints. "It wasn't that hard to find you. I got pretty good hints."

"Well, congratulations!" Maka sarcastically spits. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, embarrassed to be caught in such a skimpy outfit by someone who succeeds in making her heart race with just one glance. "Now you can go home!"

"Does that mean I get to take _you_ home?" He smirks.

"NO!" She screeches, sending him a filthy look he laughs at. "Ugh, where's Liz? I'm gonna' kill her for putting me in there!" She growls as she stands up, stomping away from him. He follows closely behind, still snickering.

She goes rigid when she feels his fingers flick her fluffy tail. "What's up with the tail—?"

"STOP LOOKING, YOU PERVERT!" Maka shrieks, chopping him on the head. "_Don't_ touch my tail!"

"You could've just said that instead of breaking my skull in five different places!" He snaps, rubbing his head as he follows her. "That blonde chick who basically auctioned you off ain't here. She's out helping some dumbass in leather pants."

"Hiro?" Maka perks up.

Soul sours. "Yeah."

Maka stands in the middle of the grassy field as she deliberates her next move. Her heel bumps against something and Maka kneels down to pick up a small blue egg. She pops it open, finding a small chocolate locked up inside.

"There's a bunch of them like that," Soul answers her silent inquiry. "I got around five before I came across these two," he adds, watching her close the egg and pop the chocolate into her mouth.

"How come you decided to play?" She asks, curiously. "I thought you didn't like games like these, or holidays." She'd found him out in the street more often since she memorized how he looked in his human guise. He also tended to hang out nearby the café during her lunch breaks, so she usually waved him over and had casual lunch with him before heading back to work. After all, he'd saved her when he found her in a drunken haze at that bar. She still felt guilty and humiliated that he'd caught her so unawares and helpless. It's why she didn't mind buying him lunch sometimes although he often ended up paying for both their lunches if she wasn't careful.

"I don't."

"What makes today so different?"

"What'd you expect me to do? Sit back and watch some sleazy asshole lay their hands all over you?" Soul scoffs, ignoring her look of outrage. "Not likely. Those two didn't think things through very well, this game is really dangerous!"

"I can take care of myself, for your information!" Maka harrumphs, arching a brow at him. "The one I should be worried about is _you!"_

"_Me?_" He blanches.

"Yes, you! Who was the one who touched my tail just right now?"

"I was curious if it was as soft as it looked!" Soul yells back. "Stupid, taking advantage of girls isn't cool!"

Maka narrows her eyes. "Were you really curious?"

"Yes, have you seen that thing?" Soul says, exasperated. He rolls his eyes when she twists around to check on her fluffy tail. She touches it once before turning back, deciding that, yes, it felt as soft as it looked. "There, believe me now?"

"No," she deadpans "But I'll let it slide since you were half-way honest."

"H-half-way honest? I _was_ being honest!"

"Uh huh."

"I was!"

"No one touches a girls tail because they're curious to see how _soft_ it is, Soul," she says, matter-of-factly.

"You made something so innocent sound so _wrong_…" He groans, running fingers through his hair. He looked truly torn, Maka inwardly congratulated his acting skills "I'm a warlock, I'm curious by nature, and I haven't seen something like this in...I don't know, ever! This is new to me! This entire game is new to me, I don't understand most of what you humans do for this holiday. This is the holiday that least concerns me, I only came out because I heard you were participating." She studies him for a moment, tan hands running through raven black hair. Marble black eyes annoyed, mouth filled with perfectly normal teeth screwed in a troubled scowl. Her ire slowly drains and new thoughts take refuge in her mind.

"I've forgotten…." Maka quietly says, earning a look of confusion. "I've forgotten how you really look like."

"…Does it matter?"

"Yes, because this isn't how you look like. You're wearing a costume just like me," she explains, her bunny ears weighing on her head. She brushes one away from her cheek, watching him deliberate her words silently.

"I can't just dispel the incantation," Soul finally says. "It doesn't work that way. It's complicated magic. I won't be able to cast it on time if someone were to suddenly appear. I can't risk it."

"So does this mean I'll always see you like this unless it's dark fall?" She vaguely remembers burning red eyes as she laid in bed that drunken night.

"Basically," he shrugs. "There are ways for you to see me as I truly am. Although, don't I look cooler in this form than my other?" He means it as a joke but it doesn't fool her. She gives his black hair and straight, even, teeth a glance before looking back into black eyes.

"I like you better with white hair and sharp teeth," she finally says. She smiles at the surprise that crosses his face. "It made you…l-look cooler." She hastily looks away.

"…Would you really like to see me?"

Maka nods. She tenses when he steps forward, hands jammed into his pockets. "As I said before, there are ways for you to see me without my disguise. Children can usually see me because they can see past it. Adults have lost that childhood ability."

"How can I see you without it, then?" She asks. He's closer than she'd let anyone be but the look on his face isn't devious: it's thoughtful, as if he were struggling with this small plea of hers. "Soul?"

"Close your eyes," he suddenly says.

She hesitates. "Why?"

"Just do it."

"But…"

He sighs. "Maka, do you trust me?"

"Yes," she admits timidly, wary on closing her eyes with him so close. She can feel her face heat up at his proximity. "But why do I need to close my eyes?"

"Or else it won't work."

"What won't work?"

"Those who belong to the Guild of Magic don't give away their secrets, Maka," Soul says, ambiguously. Maka had read about that Guild—a faction of the paranormal that dealt with beings like himself. She didn't know he was a member, but it would make sense if he could protect an entire town without lifting a finger. "Just close your eyes and promise me you won't hit me too hard after this. This is the only other way to do it without a rune, and getting one of those hurts like a bitch."

Now she was _really_ reluctant to close her eyes. "What are you going to do, Soul? What about runes? What's that?" She asks, swallowing when all he does is motion for her to close her eyes. She does after a second, squeezing them tight and waiting for him to work his magic. Literally. But moments pass without anything happening and just when she's about to open her eyes, she feels something soft press against her lips.

It's seconds late that she realizes it's his mouth and even though she knows one simple kiss would suffice, her finger tips tingling as a strange rush of air circles around her, it doesn't stop her from placing her hand on his chest and pressing back before he pulls away. She stills and hopes and her hopes break through when he gently touches her arm, guiding her closer. And when he starts to deepen their kiss, his hands sliding down to her hips, her fingers digging into his shoulders, Maka takes a wobbly step forward and wraps her arm around his neck, her lower lip touching sharp teeth. She knows he's back to being Soul Eater.

A sharp moan muffles against his mouth when he bites her lip, desire starting to pulse between her legs. She stands on her tip-toes and he gropes her rear, earning himself a squeaky gasp he chuckles to. She can feel him finger the cotton of her bunny tail before devious fingers run up the curve of her spine tantalizingly. She slants her mouth more confidently against his, a muffled groan coming from him when she bites his lip in warning. She wants to hear more of those sounds, his husky growl that makes her ache for him fiercer. She's just slipped her arms underneath his jacket to grip the back of his shirt, his hands back to where they belong on her waist, when it all comes to a reluctant end:

"…_Makaaa!_"

She gasps against his mouth, her eyes flying open. She jerks back, wide-eyed and red-faced, as more calls of her name come from behind. When she looks up at Soul, she's stunned to find red eyes staring back down at her.

"You—you're Soul!" She says, dumbly.

In reply, Soul grins, revealing razor teeth. "That's my cue to leave."

"W-wait, where are you going?" Maka sputters, some of the heat receding from her face. "I thought Liz was going to give you a prize for finding me!"

"I already got my prize," he looks over his shoulder, _these_ eyes somehow giving her heart more reason to pump faster than the black ones she'd grown to used to seeing. He contemplates something for a second before removing his jacket and tossing it to her, watching her scramble to grab it with her shaky fingers. "I'd stay, except I've got business to take care of. Later, Maka!"

"W-wait, hold up! I thought you had holiday's off?!"

"Only Halloween," he replies, rolling his eyes as if it should have been obvious. Maka watches him leave with curiosity. "If I had every holiday off, this place would be overrun with Kishin in no time!" He cackles and Maka sighs, doubting it because no matter how lazy he was, he did take duty quite seriously.

"I'll meet you at the cafe," Maka shouts, before he's out of ear-shot. She swallows, adding, "Like usual!" and smiles when he hollers back the usual time. She's so relieved her recklessness had helped her out this one time, that she doesn't notice Liz or Hiro until the former speaks up.

"Who was that? Did he let you out of the egg? Harvar was found by some girl called Jackie around an hour ago," Liz informs. She touches her camera with a pout. "Hey, if he found you, he never got a picture!"

"He wasn't all that interested in that, um, prize," Maka coughs, red tinting her cheeks. She turns back to Liz and smiles brightly. "So that's why you hadn't come to find me! I was beginning to worry I'd be left in the egg this whole time!"

"I said everyone had until noon to find either of you," Liz grins. "After that, it gets too hot! You'd suffocate and I don't think anyone would like to eat a hard-boiled Maka!"

"Hey, did you really have to go there..."

"How'd you get out of the egg, Maka?" Hiro speaks up, curious.

Maka pulls on the jacket Soul left her, thankful he'd been polite enough to loan her it, as she answers him. "Someone else found the hints," Maka tells them simply. "He let me out of the egg. Oh, and Liz, I'm not doing that again! I don't care what you say or what you do, this is the _last time_ I ever let you talk me into something like this!"

"Who _was_ that guy?" Liz asks again, ignoring her small rant, now even more curious as to who that guy was. Liz knew most of the people in Death City, given that it was a fairly small town, and she had not once seen that guy. "I haven't seen him around before..."

Maka can feel Hiro's eyes on her face as her cheeks catch fire, her fingers fidgeting with one another. She ignores the gradual grin that spreads on Liz's face as she insists: "H-he's just a friend, okay? I met him awhile ago and I'm always seeing him around town."

She doesn't say his name, no matter how much Liz persists with that suggestive grin of hers.

She wants to keep this little secret to herself for a while longer.


	8. Memorial Day - Kid's Epiphany

**Someday  
by.** _Poisoned Scarlett_

_Memorial Day—Kid's Epiphany._

"Do you require sunscreen, Kid?" Tsubaki asks softly, smiling encouragingly when he glances at her. He looks absolutely out of his element, walking along side them in swim trunks and a fitted, black polo shirt. He continuously picks at his shirt and he doesn't even acknowledge his shorts, preferring to ignore it in hopes that they will go away. But it was better than what he wanted to wear, which was his _suit_. They were trying to keep low-key and wearing a gentleman's suit to a public pool party was certainly a way to stand out. "It may help with the irritation."

"...Yes. Thank you, Tsubaki," Kid tells her politely, the barest hints of a smile on his severe face. Tsubaki takes out the bottle of sunscreen from her bag and hands it to him. She glances at Soul, who yawns in his palm as he walks little ways ahead of them. He was not dressed to bathe in the pool with his jeans and muscle shirt although she was, her modest bikini hidden beneath a sundress. She had been extremely excited when she heard from Soul that Maka had invited them to the local swimming pool party for Memorial Day, promising they would not attract attention as there would be a lot of people. They would finally be able to blend in and Tsubaki was thrilled at the prospect of being just a normal girl for the day.

"This infernal sun," Kid mutters, shading his eyes with his hand. "Has it always been this hot?"

"Welcome to the outside world, Kid," Soul drawls, looking over his shoulder with a slight smirk. "Feels different, doesn't it?"

Kid frowns and remains silent for the rest of their journey. Tsubaki looks between and hopes they both manage to keep their hostilities under wraps for the duration of the party.

It isn't long before Kid begins to notice an influx of humans and he stiffens ever so slightly in their presence. Aside from the discomfort that comes with being around humans, he is unused to the sunlight; it makes his sensitive skin turn ruddy and itch. The only reason he stepped out of the mansion was because Soul had forced him to, as he and the others were leaving for the day. Soul had become more inclined to the outside, to mingle with humans. Although, he had already proven himself a human-lover by the way he treated that human girl, Maka Albarn. Kid is frankly indifferent to them at this point, has meditated on the idea for many a days only to come to the conclusion that he neither hates nor loves them.

"SOUL!" comes a cry, bright with excitement. "Tsubaki! Kid! Over here!"

"Maka!" Tsubaki laughs and hurries to her. Kid keeps his slow gait, not wanting to sweat anymore than he already has. He feels absolutely dreadful and scorns Soul for forcing him outside with the thin excuse of him needing to socialize if he wanted to take over his father's position in a few years time.

Last he knew, Death Gods did not mingle with the living, only the dead.

But his father trusted that absurd warlock to an unhealthy degree, in Kid's eyes, and had given him more liberty and power than he was comfortable with. But Kid also trusted his father absolutely. It was the only reason he was putting up with the warlocks farfetched ideas.

"I'm so glad you could come! The drinks are by the snack bar, and half the pool is closed off for the adults! You guys should take a dip before it fills up," Maka chimes, giving Kid a cheery smile he grimaces at. Maka's cheer falters at the sight, but it's quickly recovered when Soul pats her head and tells her where he could get a soda because his throat was killing him.

They leave together and Tsubaki hops from foot to foot nervously, looking between Soul and Kid, before deciding to stay with him. Kid knows she would much rather go with Soul and Maka, knows he's being disagreeable and rude today, and he takes a breath and tries—for formalities sake—to be pleasant.

"Tsubaki?"

"Yes, Kid?"

"What is that, over there?"

"...You mean the float ring?"

"What in Father's name is _that?"_

"It, um, keeps the children afloat in the pool," Tsubaki tells him helpfully, pasting on a weak smile when Kid looks at the giraffe float ring in horror. The girl who sat on top of it was much too big for it, practically a full-grown woman, but seemed more than content trying to wiggle her bum into the tiny ring—going as far as to laugh in delight when she fell over.

"By God, it's atrocious! That will not save anyone! It has a horrible design, who in the world thought such a device would be capable of holding a full humans weight?"

"Umm..."

"And it's absolutely asymmetrical! The spots aren't proportional!"

"It's only a float—!"

"If you are going to do something, you do it _right_," Kid tells Tsubaki sternly. "That is certainly not right!" The girl only sighs and goes along with it, her shoulders slumping as she resigns herself to another two hours of listening to Kid rant about the horrors of the human world—starting with a giraffe float ring.

Despite herself, her eyes stray to Soul and Maka and the corner of her lip curls at the sight. Maka is handing Soul what appears to be a tall glass of—alcohol? Soda? Tsubaki can't see very well from where she stands. She realizes what it is when Soul pokes the top of it with a spoon. A root beer float! Tsubaki thinks hard to the last time the master of the house had ever had such a modern delicacy and is sad to know that this is probably a new experience for him.

The most times he left the mansion was to attend conferences in the sleepy town of Helsinki in the Land of Witches. The food and drink there was preferred by the warlock, having lived in the town himself before he was transferred to the human realm. Of course something like this would come as a surprise! Tsubaki hopes that Maka will introduce him to new things, will make him like this world more than the one he came from. She's sure Maka will, however, judging by the smile that crooks the high warlocks lips when Maka details every item on the menu for him.

"Is the sun always out so long?"

Tsubaki nearly smacks her face with her hand—and Kid, having come from the Land of Witches as well, sheltered due to being the successor of his Death God father, had probably only seen the sun for a few hours a week. The sun was strange in the Land of Witches, a lazy orb of light that floated above them, looking as if it was on the verge of dying with his wheezy coughs and heavy pants. It also had a tendency to hide when it was too tired to stay in the sky, as strange as that sounded. So it was not strange for the town of Helsinki to go without light for days.

"Here the sun comes out at six in the morning and sets at six in the evening," Tsubaki tells him patiently.

"Dreadful."

"It grows on you after a while. If you left your study to go outside more, you could grow accustomed to the sun as well, Kid!" Tsubaki encourages, but only receives a deliberate hum from the junior Death God. Tsubaki straightens up when she notices Maka walking up to them, holding two drinks in her hands. Soul follows close behind her, practically devouring the root beer float as he did.

"Hey, Kid," Maka calls, holding out a tall glass for him. She hands one to Tsubaki as well, who takes it with a gracious bow. "Here, have a float!"

"A...float? Another?" Kidd queries, looking at the drink she held out to him hesitantly. "This does not look like the one that girl was using."

At Maka's strange look, Tsubaki takes over, whispering: "This is different. This is food, Kid, the float ring is for entertainment purposes. They share the name, somewhat. This is a root beer float, that is a float ring."

"Ah. I see."

"Take it, Kid, it's pretty good," Soul grins, tapping Maka on the elbow and gesturing to follow him to the shade. She does after reassuring Kid it was one of the most popular drinks their town had. Kid looks back down at his float, deciding it could not hurt to take a sip.

"How is it?" Tsubaki asks.

"Good," Kidd tells her with a slight smile, taking a longer drink. "Acceptable, very acceptable."

Tsubaki laughs. "That's great! I'm glad!"

* * *

Kid decides humans aren't so bad a few hours into the party. Tsubaki had taken to swimming in the pool with Maka and a few other girls while Soul looked on from his seat beneath a beach umbrella. Kid now understands why the warlock had brought sunglasses: after growing bored of watching Maka play volleyball, he had reclined in his chair with his hands braced behind his head, glasses perched on the top of his nose.

Kid has consumed perhaps five root beer floats by this time and thinks he should stop, as he drinks his sixth one. But they've actually grown on him, although the sun remains his most bitter enemy. But the lotion Tsubaki had given him earlier eases the itch and burn, for which he is immensely thankful for. His casual observation of the pool grounds has also proved worthwhile: the girl with the giraffe float ring has a sister, a slender and haughty girl whom he thinks is called Liz, by the way the youngest cries out her name. She has not stepped foot into the pool, preferring to tan, and waves her sister off whenever she whines for her to join her. Kid looks over at her a lot because he cannot _fathom_ how one could willingly bathe under this infernal sun without boiling from the inside.

"Heeeeeey!"

Kid blinks when he finds the giraffe girl at his feet, floating on the ring like a child. "...Hello."

"You're really pale! Don't you go out a lot?"

"I prefer the inside."

She cocks her head. "Doesn't it get lonely inside?"

"I prefer solitude."

"That sounds really gloomy! You should go out more! Oh, you should go get a tan with sissy so you don't look like a zombie!"

"...Zombie?" Kid repeats, blankly.

"Uh huh! Dead and stuff!"

"I assure you, _child_," Kid tells her, watching her smile falter at his tone. There is a twinge of guilt for being the one to dim the brightness in her eyes, but he does well in ignoring it. "A zombie is not pale with death, they are blue with rot."

"Ummm...okay, whatever you say, creepy kid!" She bounces back with a grin and paddles off, leaving him to his thoughts. He looks up to find Soul watching him silently, pushing his glasses back up his nose and leaning back as if he hadn't just watched him brush another person off. Kid presses his lips together and looks down at his half-finished root beer float. Was he really that grim? He liked to think not but, then again, he was the only one standing under the shade of the tree, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him. He looks up at the sound of a shriek, finding the giraffe girl pulling her sister into the pool. Maka seems to know them, for she swims over to Liz and holds her up, promising not to let her sink.

She doesn't know how to swim, Kid deduces. It was the only reason she would not want to get in the pool. But Liz only waves her off, attaches herself to the edge and smiling weakly when Maka tells her she could teach her.

"Foolish," Kid murmurs to himself, taking a sip of his float. Maka leaves the girl be by the shallow end, after all. It takes time for him to finish his sixth float but, by the time he does, he heads over to the bar to order another. He is happy to know that he has gotten the hand of ordering things, not sounding so frigid when he does. That's good; he's grown accustomed to humans, somewhat. He hopes, anyway.

When he pays for the float, he freezes. He senses death first and by the time he looks, by the time he can ready himself to collect the fallen soul, Maka is there. Kid runs away from the bar, standing at the edge of the pool to watch Maka gasp as she breaks through the water, cheeks red from exertion, her chest heaving, shouting at everyone to give her space as she pulls Liz out of the pool desperately. No one knows what to do; it is evident by the cries, the panicked shouts, the wide-eyed stares as they wonder whether or not they're about to witness a death. Maka falls on her knees on the poolside, pushes the pale-faced girl on her back and proceeds with what Kid realizes is emergency resuscitation.

"She is not going to make it," Kid says when he stands before Maka. He's shaking and belatedly realizes it is _panic _that he feels—that makes his bone quiver, makes his entire self shut down. He has never seen anyone die; he only collected the remains. He only saw corpses already going through rigor mortis. He has never seen an actual person _die_ before him, has never had to, and the more the girl struggles to hold on, the more he realizes that her soul is in agony. He can see every flicker of light, how the girls soul struggles within her self; blinded with panic, not knowing whether to keep still or push out. If the soul pushes out, Kid thinks numbly, the girl dies. A soul cannot return to the body without causing severe damage to the soul itself, resulting in an even worse death.

"She _is_ going to make it," Maka says harshly and the look she sends him is terrifying. Kid takes a step back from the sheer ferocity in her eyes before she bends over again and breathes life into the unconscious girl.

"What do you mean, she's not going to make it?" giraffe girl asks, her blue eyes brimming with tears. Her hair is plastered over her cheek, her skin dripping with water, hands shaking. She had rushed out of the pool the instant the lifeguard had blown his whistle, the instant she saw Maka rush over to her sister and pull her out.

"I'm terribly sorry..."

She grabs his hand and he feels her warmth, feels her soul throb with an agony he cannot stand. He rips his hand out of hers and backs up as she cries, "She's my sister! She can't die! I _need_ her, she's my SISTER!"

"Kid," Tsubaki squeezes his arm tightly, her eyes pleading. "Do something!"

"What...what am I supposed...?"

"Kid, don't freeze up!" Soul grabs his shoulder, jerks him away from the girl so his wide golden eyes meet fierce red. "You're a Death God! _Do something!_ I'm forbidden from tampering with life, but you're not!"

"I'm a _Death_ God! I can't...I can't help the living, I only deal in the dead," Kidd fumbles but he more he stares at the dying girl, the more he can't breathe. It's like he, himself, is dying and all of these humans surrounding him, their souls screaming in panic, make him want to buckle down to his knees and hold his head. But he doesn't, instead he watches Maka give three pumps to her chest and breathe into her mouth again. The lifeguard oversees her, feels her pulse and grimaces.

But can he really save her, if he tried? Being a God of Death, overseeing and counting souls, he's not suited to save people. He _kills_ people. This is all he knows, yet watching the girl hang onto life so strongly makes his heart weigh. Kid steps forward when her sister screams for him_ to help her_ and grabs Maka by the shoulder, pushing her off the girl. He ignores the lifeguard to loom over the girl, her blonde hair tangled beneath her, her skin growing a pasty white. No, _blue_, he thinks, looking a her bluing lips. She was such a haughty girl, but she has a good heart. He can feel it, as strangely as it sounds. He can feel that she was a good person, just roughened by age. He presses his hands over her chest and pushes down hard, his golden eyes flashing. He cups his hand around the white wisps of her crying soul and gently pushes it back in its rightful place, or what he believes is the right place. He doesn't quite know, he is going by instinct, but the instant his hand retracts, she gasps and her eyes snap open.

Kidd stares into cerulean eyes, her face flooding pink with life.

He's a God of Death and he brought life back to a person.

Her hand is at his collar in a flash, bringing him down so close he can feel her breath on his lips. Kidd jerks back, holding her wrist to push away from her. He stops when he realizes she's breathing hard, her eyes shut and her mouth moving around words he can't hear.

"Holy..." the lifeguard says, befuddled because he's sure he saw a _light_ or a _flash_ but he's not quite sure. He shakes his head, deciding he was imagining things.

"Kid, you saved her!" Maka breaths in disbelief, bringing his attention away from the breathless girl. "How did you do that?"

"I just...pushed her soul back into her body," Kid clears his throat, looking just as confounded as he sounded. "I did what felt right..."

"SISSY!"

Kid sits back on his thighs and, dazed, watches the younger sister embraces the older tightly. His eyes dart to the humans who surround him and he's in slight shock when they go up to him and thank him, give him pats on the back and grateful smiles, the words _hero _and _life-saver _lifting his spirits and leaving behind a feeling of satisfaction and, strangely, warmth. He can feel their gratitude in their souls, it's almost too much, and when he looks back at the sisters, the youngest is bursting with admiration and thankfulness. She actually stands up and runs into him, knocks him clean off his feet and on his back, and he stares at the sky before he realizes it's really her eyes.

"Thank you so much, weird kid!"

"...You're very welcome," Kidd tells her, smiling. "I hope your sister is fine."

She beams. "She is now thanks to you!" She holds out a hand, her laugh giddy and pitched. "My name is Patty, and that's my sister, Liz!"

"Patty...is that short for Patricia?"

Patty cocks her head at him and laughs. "No, silly, it's short for Patty!"

"Er..."

"Come on, come on! I'm gonna' buy you ice-cream coz you deserve it! I think sissy deserves it, too!"

"Shouldn't Liz go to the hospital?" Maka asks, concerned. Tsubaki nods furiously behind her, phone already in her hand.

"Nu uh! Sissy doesn't like hospitals, huh, sis?"

Liz smiles weakly, waving off those who still tried to help her. "I'm fine...I'm alive, aren't I?" She can't speak very well, her throat raw, but she was regaining color in her skin and looked much better than the ghastly image she had been before. Liz walks up to Kid once she gets her footing, grips his shoulder tight and grins down at him. "I have'ta buy the guy who saved my life a drink at least."

"You don't have to—!"

"Let me," she smiles and her sister bounces up next to him, taking him by the arm and dragging him to the bar. Soul steps up to Maka after she squeezes Liz into a hug, her sister helping her walk to the bar while Kid tried to get away to no avail.

"I'm so glad Kid came along with you guys," Maka admits, gratefully. "If he hadn't been here, Liz would have been a goner!"

Soul nods and Tsubaki tries to off-set the chilling knowledge that Liz really would have died if Kid not been around by pointing to the snack bar, asking Maka if she could accompany her to get some dessert before the day was up. Soul glances at Kid one more time, his back turned to him as the sisters stand on either side of him, the youngest laughing boisterously while the eldest pointed at something with a look of disbelief on her face. Despite it, Kid does not shrink back or walk away—he stays, and his smile is always a ghost on his lips.

Soul hopes it will remain that way and makes a note to inform Lord Death of this new development.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter was focused on Kidd because he plays a big role in the future chapters and I wanted to develop his relationship with humans to make it all work. Sorry for the lack of Soul/Maka, but the next chapter will make up for it.

_Scarlett_.


	9. Fathers Day

**Someday  
by.** _Poisoned Scarlett_

_Father's Day.  
_

Maka has known this was a bad idea since she received the phone call a week ago. Nevermind that Maka had changed phone companies a few months ago and had deliberately not given her new number to her father, but Spirit has always had trouble communicating with Maka because of his unsightly habit. Maka understands that some men could simply not be tied down, loved women more than they should, but the reason her father caused so much ire and hurt to bubble within her was because he had the audacity to tell her that he still _loved_ her and, especially, her mama. It also does not help that he denies his actions time and time again.

Perhaps if her father accepted his mistakes, Maka thinks, perhaps then she would be able to have a semblance of a relationship with him.

"I hear my baby recently got promoted in her job! I'm so proud of you, Maka," Spirit grins, sitting across from her at a little corner cafe. Maka has put an effort into her wardrobe today, although, she admits she purposely chose her mama's style to see if Spirit would flinch upon seeing her. He didn't; he only brightened when she entered the small business. Maka has always been told she looked startlingly like her mother. So, today, she dresses sharp like her mother always does, in a gray wool skirt that reaches the tops of her knees. She had donned a sleeveless light pink blouse with ruffles lining the neckline, a shirt that belonged to her mama actually. Her mama had left some clothes behind when she left them, and Maka had kept them even if they saddened her when she was young. They saddened her no longer, although Maka still takes special care in ensuring they were well taken care of.

"I got promoted a year ago, papa," Maka dryly informs, which makes her father freeze up.

"A-ah...right! Papa is getting older, you see, I guess my memory isn't as great as it was a few years ago!"

"Papa, you're forty," Maka smiles. "You're not that old."

He looks much younger than forty, if Maka were honest with herself. Both of her parents had always looked younger than they actually were, something her friends in high school always gushed at. Maka had not found it very amusing at the time; her father used his looks to catch women unawares, still did even at his age. He would for a long, long time to come.

"Well...How are you doing in your job? I haven't heard a lot about you in a while," he adds, with hopeful eyes. "Are you doing well?"

"I've," she pauses, collecting herself. She needs to try and communicate with him, not alienate him even more! She has to try. "I've been fine. I work long hours at the bank now, so it can be a little boring...but I've made some good friends there, too. It's not all bad."

"New friends?" He perks up. "What happened to, ah, that other brown-haired girl you hung out with?"

"Oh, Meme? She moved when I was sixteen, to the east coast, remember?" Maka tells him and he nods, awkwardly tapping his fingers on the table. "I have new ones, though. Like Liz. She works with me at the bank, and Tsubaki! I met her...I met her through Soul, actually," Maka says, thoughtful. She had met her through Soul, technically. Or, if she were accurate, Tsubaki had met _Maka_ through Soul.

"Soul? Who's Soul? Another friend of yours? She has such a strange name."

"Well, he's not a girl," Maka chuckles because she _supposes_ the name 'Soul' would be a strange name for boys or girls. "I met him awhile ago, actually, and—what's with that face?" Maka narrows her eyes when her papa shrugs moodily, not looking happy at all. She immediately knows what's wrong. "You haven't even met him! You can't tell me you hate him already, papa!"

"He's a guy!"

"He's my _friend_, and I'm glad he is! He's really sweet and he's not as bad as you're making him out in your mind!" Maka fiercely snaps, which makes Spirit squint at her suspiciously.

"Do you like him?"

"Wh-what?" Maka flusters, jumping. "No, well, yes, he's my friend! But not like that!"

"Hmmm, I would be careful, Maka," Spirit cautions. "I don't like the idea of some punk hanging around _my_ daughter—!"

"Oh, like you should be talking!" Maka scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly when he frowns at her.

"Is it bad that I'm worried about my only daughter?"

"You haven't worried about me since I was a teenager, so don't pretend to now when I'm an adult!" Maka growls, pressing her lips together when her father fiercely argues against it. She cuts him off mid-speech; they're all reasons she's heard before, reasons she's long since stopped believing. "If you stopped lying, then maybe we can _finally_ have a civilized conversation!"

"We _were_ having one just before you decided to—oh hello," Spirit smiles pleasantly at the waitress who's wary to approach them. Maka sighs sharply and ignores the look her father sends her, a mix of irritation and worry. It's mostly worry; she knows they've already soured this meeting. But she still can't believe he has enough fight in him to reject all of her reason after all this time. How can he honestly say he loves them when he does the things he does? When he hurts them, and _knows_ he does? He continues to mess up though he promises not to, he continues to drag them through the mud and apologize only to do it again at the next chance he got. Sometimes Maka wishes she had been brave like her mother and gone off to another part of the world, settled down somewhere far, far away where her father's actions did not matter anymore.

Sometimes she wishes she was strong enough to _leave _him like her mama had. Although Maka can never simply _leave _her father. He is her father, whether she likes it or not.

"Doesn't it disgust you?"

Spirit looks over at his daughter, her head bowed. "What?"

"I said, doesn't it disgust you? Aren't you disgusted with yourself?" She finally looks up, eyes hard.

"Whether you believe it or not, I'm _not_ disgusted with myself. Maka, if this is because of what happened between your mother and I when you were young, you can't hold that against me completely. Your mother wasn't innocent in this, either!"

"My _mother _was _not_ the one cheating on you with over thirty different women in the course of your marriage!"

"Then you should think about _the reason why I cheated on your mother!" _Spirit finally snaps, looking down with a pained crease of his brows. He has never bit back when she brought this tender subject up. Maka stares at him, baleful words collecting her mouth with every second that passed. "Your mama wasn't as innocent as you believe she was, Maka. Your mother...she never loved me," he sighs, slumping in his chair. "She never did. It was a one-time thing between us and she wanted to give us a shot when you were born. But she _never_ loved me, and she was always cold to me when I tried to...be with her. You can't blame me entirely for seeing other women, she barely _spoke_ to me," he chuckles with a sad glimmer in his eyes. "She never tried to give us a chance."

"...So you sought other women to fill that loneliness inside of yourself?"

Spirit can only look at her tiredly.

"You're _disgusting," _she cries out, her eyes fierce and full of rage. "You're the _worst!_" She has never been so angry in her life, has never wanted to strangle a person so much as she did her father. Her mother was cold, was she? Her mother did not give him the love he desired, did she? Yet why did he cheat, why did he stay for so long if he knew they were going nowhere? Why didn't he leave, _honor_ the concept of marriage and cut ties with her mama before he could hurt her so much with his womanizing? _How_ could he say she did not love him when her mama cried herself to sleep at night when he would not arrive, when her mama left parties early because her papa was off dancing with other women? How could her papa, who claimed he loved _her_, forget about her in the cold because a woman's short skirt blinded him? She was so _young_, she remembers her papa whispering to her that if she did not tell her mama that he was with Suzy's mama, he would buy her book. She's beyond furious; she regrets ever thinking that they would be able to mend the torn bits between them.

Some things will just never change.

"Um, ma'am?" A waitress flusters when Maka storms up to her, snatching a glass of coke off her platter. "Ma'am, that's—!" She gasps when Maka dumps the soda all over her father, throws the glass at him as hard as she can and screams in outrage when her father catches it, wide-eyed, bewildered, horrified and unable to say anything else but _Maka, wait, what's—what did I do, I told you the truth!_

"You're a _liar," _Maka cries, hoping with a deep-set resentment that he reads the hurt in her eyes, the hatred. She hopes this image is burned into his memory, into his brain, for the rest of his years. But, mostly, she hopes in vain that he would understand that all she wants is for him to tell her the _truth_: he likes women, he did not love them but he tried. She just wants the truth; she doesn't even want him to love her anymore! If Spirit were to be honest with her for once in their lives, it would improve their relationship completely. It would and Maka _believes_ this, but Spirit only flusters, stares at her with shock but does nothing else, and Maka gives him the bird and sneers for him to go find himself some easy slut so he can cry her a river.

She storms out of the cafe, can feel tears well in her eyes and regret in her heart and hatred and all the resentful feelings she's kept inside of herself. She can feel it come out, break out of the box she had shoved them in over the years. She goes over the same questions in her mind again and again and _begs _to know why her father does the things he does, says the things he does. Perhaps her mother was not all that innocent, but love him she did.

Maka _knows_ she did.

Maka _remembers_.

"Hi, welcome to Deathbucks, how can I—um, are you okay?" the boy asks hesitantly, upon realizing that the girl who's next in line is still crying although she's staring at the menu as if her life depended on it. "Uh..."

"Yes. I'm fine," she says, shortly, and he decides he'd rather not open that can of worms on his second week of employment. He takes her order without another word, only to ask for her name, which she says as she furiously wipes her tears away. He feels bad, wants to help her in some way because she looks like she's having a very bad day, and decides to throw in a muffin on the house. When she looks at it and looks back up, wide green eyes watery but surprised, he smiles and tells her she looks like she needs it.

Maka takes the muffin with a halfhearted smile, thanking him quietly.

She's waiting for her drink, lost in her thoughts, when she feels someone tap her shoulder, a familiar, "Maka?", making her freeze where she stands.

"Soul?" She croaks, horrified. She's in no right state of mind to speak to him, not today of all days, not when a hopeful father-daughter date had gone so terribly wrong. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Should be asking you that. C'mon," he smiles crookedly, taking her drink, which had been sitting on the pick-up counter for the past thirty seconds or so. "You look like shit."

"Shut up," Maka punches him lightly on the shoulder, taking her drink and taking a long drink from it. The cold mocha makes her feel more level, better, as Soul leads her outside where they're not been eyed by the other customers. He pulls up a chair just as she does but she sits down before him, not looking at him because her eyes are still watering. They can't seem to stop. It's always like this after she and her father have rough arguments.

"So, wanna' tell me why you're crying?"

Maka shakes her head, taking another long drink from her cup.

Soul sighs. "Did that guy say something to you?"

"You...don't tell me you _saw_ that!" Maka looks up and cringes when Soul nods, grimacing when he realizes she's still crying.

"Yeah, I was coming back from the park when I saw you two there. Looked like you were gonna' punch him."

"He...he just said something that really upset me," Maka tells him quietly. "Today was a really special day and I thought if we talked out our problems, we'd be able to be like how we were before. Although, we weren't that great before, either...but it was better than how it is now."

Soul stiffens, unable to help how his heart sinks at her words. "You two...have been together for that long?"

"Well, yes," Maka says, brows furrowed. "He's my papa, Soul, what—oh, no!" Maka gasps, horrified when she realizes what he meant seconds too late. "We're not—_god no_! He's my father, Soul, today's Father's Day and he called me a week ago to ask if I wanted to go with him someplace to...catch up, and I agreed. I thought we would fix things, and I think he thought we would, too, but..." Maka looks down at her cup. "He says the same thing every time I confront him about it. He's not honest, he can't even admit to me that he just _likes _women too much to leave them. I'd be fine with that, if he just told me he doesn't love mama and I and that's why he cheated so much."

Soul studies her for a second and it clicks for him. "Your father does love you."

Maka looks up vehemently, about to protest, but he adds, "He might have cheated on your mom, but he does love you. You're his daughter, you're related to him. Whether his actions hurt you is a different matter, but when I was watching you two from outside...I could tell," he looks at her when the cup is crushed between her hands, her eyes watery and her face distressed. "He does love you, he just doesn't know what to do to show you he does. Whatever he said might've upset you, but he tries. He does, right?"

"He..." Maka bites her lip. He does try, she reasons, she can think of a handful of times when he's tried to be a good father to her. He's tried, but what kills her the most is when he lapses back to his vices. But he tries; is that all she will be able to get from him? Only attempts and half-truths? "...Why do men cheat, Soul?" She looks up at him hopelessly, wanting to simply _know. _"Why do they have to lie?"

"I don't know," Soul tells her honestly. "I'm not a man."

Maka blinks at him.

"I'm a warlock, I'm not human."

"But I mean, you do have...?" Maka drops her eyes below his chest and Soul stiffens in his seat, more than aware of what lies below his waist-line.

"_Yeah, _I meant I'm not_ human!_ I wasn't raised how humans were raised, I have different ideals, alright? A lot of things are different for me," he grumbles, scooting away from her wary eyes a little. "What?"

"...How are warlocks raised?" Maka asks, sniffling and wiping away her tears. Soul reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handkerchief, more like _conjured_ one for her on the spot. But making things appear out of nowhere would scare more than just a human or two, especially in this realm.

"Different. It's very different," Soul tells her vaguely and Maka wants to ask more. But before she can, he says, "But I do remember one thing my mentor taught me. He taught me that it's not the body that matters, but the soul," he smiles at Maka when she looks up at him in curiosity, green eyes full of wonder. She has the sweetest eyes, and his mentor had taught him that eyes were windows to souls. He doesn't need to look into her eyes to know she was sweet, however, he can _sense _it. He had always known it.

"It's not the body that matters, but the soul?"

"Yeah, and some guys can't see past the body."

"Papa..." Maka sighs resignedly, knowing his words to be wise. Her papa really could not see past the body, past material elements. He's stuck there, forever, muddling things wherever he trod because of his inability to see past such short-lived things.

"Hey, wanna' get something to eat? I'm starving," Soul asks her, making her look up again. He's grinning now, red eyes light. "You won't have'ta dump your drink on me if you do."

Unable to help herself, she giggles, and stands, already nodding. "I think that would be great, Soul. Thanks."

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, nodding down the street where a nice and quaint little restaurant sits, squished between two other businesses. He doesn't know just how deep her scars run for this, can only imagine from this fragment he had been given, but he does know that if he can lessen the load even a little, it would all be worth it in the end.


	10. Independence Day

**Someday  
by.** _Poisoned Scarlett_

_Independence Day._

"Maka?" Tsugumi calls timidly, poking a plain cookie from the tray with troubled eyes. She watches as Maka smears them white with frosting, starting to draw the US flag upon them with careful hands. There are dozens of the same kind packed up into boxes. This was the last box before Maka handed them off to the sisters and they sold them in the evening. They'd agreed that as long as Maka made them, they'd take care of selling them.

"Yes, Tsugumi?"

"How come you like that scary guy?"

Maka pauses and looks at the little girl. "What do you mean, Tsugumi? You don't like Soul?"

"He's mean to me," she says, sourly.

"He's mean to _everyone,_" Maka snorts.

"Except you."

Maka turns back to Tsugumi, watching her wipe crumbles off her mouth with the back of her hand. She's pouting. "He's mean to me, too, Tsugumi. He just knows I'll kick his ass if he doesn't watch himself."

"He's _nicer_ to you!" she persists. "I like Hiro better..."

Maka studies her for a second before she smiles, asking, "How come?"

"Because he's really nice to me and he buys me stuff! Last time he bought me an ice-cream cone!" Tsugumi enthusiastically replies, causing Maka to chuckle. Maka packs the last batch of sweets in a container, sealing it up and stacking it along with the rest.

"It isn't always about who buys you the most things, Tsugumi," Maka tells her gently, squeezing some frosting onto her finger. "Soul's a very nice guy, he just has trouble showing it. But he is a very sweet person," Tsugumi watches her eyes grow soft, almost fond. It's a weird look, not like how Maka looks at her when she's being cute. It's deeper, something else. Tsugumi doesn't know what to call that look. "You should give him another chance. He's not very good with people because of what he is. Remember what I said about him?"

"Not all warlocks and witches are _bad_, they're just misunderstood. I know, I know," she mumbles, slumping over the table. "But he's _still_ a meanie!"

Her emerald eyes twinkle with mirth. "That's the spirit – now go home for a bit, Tsugumi, I've got to go drop these cookies off with Liz and Patty! It's time for you to eat lunch, anyway," Maka adds before she could protest. "Come on, out!"

"Not yet, not yet!" Tsugumi whines, evading capture by hiding behind her counter. She peeks over at it and shouts, "You're gonna' blow up firecrackers with me at night, right?"

"Of course, the instant the sun goes down!" Maka laughs when Tsugumi cheers and rams into her, hugging her tightly. Then she runs out the door, waving at her a few times before slamming it behind her. And so Maka continues her task alone, loading up her car with boxes upon boxes of cookies and heading over to Liz and Patty's apartment to unload them there. She only stays long enough to have some lunch with the girls, leaving the instant she begins to see the sun lower on the horizon. Tsugumi was an impatient child, and would no doubt burst into tears if she arrived just when the sun left the sky.

It's well into the evening, after she bathed and changed into something lighter, that Tsugumi enters her apartment with the key's she'd been given and finds Maka slipping on some sneakers. And it isn't long after that the little girl drags her down the cobblestone streets of Death City, down closer to where everyone has gathered to pop their firecrackers together. It's a lot more crowded than Maka remembers it to be, so she holds onto Tsugumi's hand just in case and leads the way to the firecracker site.

"Look, Maka!" Tsugumi laughs, pointing at the screamer that spins and spins on the ground, sparking colors like red and white and blue. She squeals when it goes out with a shower of red and blue. Tsugumi pulls off her bag and drops it on the floor, kneeling so she could take out all of the firecrackers her parents had bought her. Maka helps her, dusting the bag and holding it for the girl as she rummaged through her collection of firecrackers for the right one. "Here, Maka! You try one, too!"

She takes out a lighter from her back pocket, igniting the firecracker. "Okay, step back!"

"Wow! It's so pretty!" Tsugumi squeals, handing Maka another one to use while some children gather around to watch as well.

Hiro finds them an hour into the event, taking post next to Maka while Tsugumi and a few other children wave around sticks of sparking fire; giggling when it fizzes out soon after and they ignite another one. Maka had bought Tsugumi three boxes full of those, more than enough to entertain her for an hour. But even watching them laugh and light more doesn't deter Hiro from trying to strike up conversation with Maka, nor do her awkward smiles deter him from coaxing her into accompanying him to a family dinner next week. That's a big request to ask, being his _date_ for a _family_ dinner and all, but he insists it would _just_ be a dinner party. She'll enjoy herself, meet his parents and siblings, and he'll always be there in case she's too timid to speak to his family members.

"I don't know, Hiro..." Maka reluctantly begins.

"It's just a dinner party, Maka!" Hiro coaxes. "Please? I've got no one else to ask!"

"But what about—?" But before Maka can get the sentence out, someone else interrupts:

"That kid is gonna' burn a finger off if you don't keep an eye on her."

Thankfully, Maka doesn't have to answer him because Soul strolls in at that very moment, hands jammed in the pockets of his jacket. Maka remembers when she gave him the jacket back with a shy murmur of thanks, eternally glad that she had been able to fight down her blush the entire time. She's still rather proud of that, although she'd _insist_ Soul's none-too-subtle flirting had _nothing_ to do with the reasons why she screwed up on her numbers at the bank later that day…

"Tsugumi, don't hold it so close to you!" Maka warns, the little girl's smile faltering when she notices Soul. But she listens to Maka and keeps it away from her. "Hey, Soul! Glad you could join us!"

"Hey, Maka," Soul greets her lazily, standing on her other side. "Who's the guy?"

"My name is Hiro," he introduces himself with a half-smile. He reaches over to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you… Soul, right?"

"Yeah, don't wear it out," he grins dangerously, both men trying to crunch the others hand into powder with each shake. Maka thinks Soul won because Hiro lets go soon after, clenching and unclenching his hand by his side with a grimace while Soul slips his into his jacket and sends her a triumphant smirk she rolls her eyes to.

The night doesn't get much better from there. If Soul and Hiro are together, anyway.

Maka sighs when she realizes the closer Soul stands to her, the closer Hiro moves to her to compensate. It's like a competition to see who can stand the closest to her without getting shoved off for invading her personal space. In order not to rise tensions, Maka squeezes out from between them and warns Tsugumi not to light four of those firecrackers at the same time, walking away from both boys and ignoring their ridiculous competition.

"Maka, can I go buy a cookie?" Tsugumi asks when she's near, holding out a five dollar bill. "Mommy gave me some money to buy some!"

"Sure, but where are they selling cookies around here?" Maka questions, looking around for a stand.

"Liz and Patty are selling cookie over there – I walked past them on my way here!" Hiro offers helpfully, pointing down the street.

"Oh! Oh, oh, can Hiro take me instead?" Tsugumi gasps, hoping up and down excitedly. "He'll be faster! We'll be _right_ back, promise!"

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," Maka looks at Hiro, his torn expression. She smiles and asks, "Will you take her?"

He hesitates for only a second before sighing in defeat, unable to deny such a hopeful look from the little girl. "Yeah, sure…" He shoots Soul a look of warning before taking Tsugumi down to the vendors quickly. The instant Hiro isn't in ear-shot anymore, Soul deadpans:

"That guy has _issues!_"

"Stop baiting him, Soul, I really don't want to have to separate you two if he decides to take matters into his own hands!" Maka huffs, crossing her arms. The night has grown chilly with every roll of clouds across the moon. It would soon be time to light the last of the fireworks before heading back inside. "I'll let him beat you up if it happens."

"As if he could lay a finger on me."

"Just because you have magic—!"

"_I _can fight _without_ magic, Maka," Soul loftily says. His eyes seem to glow in the dark, teeth catching the light in their razor edges. But when she had kissed him, his teeth hadn't been that sharp. Of course, with such a short time they'd had to themselves the last time, she didn't get a good _feel _of them. "The most that idiot can hurt is himself."

She laughs, rocking on her heels. "We'll see who wins if it ever comes down to that."

"Why do you keep him around if it's so obvious you don't like him?"

"Why do I keep _you_ around?" She fires back.

"Because it's so obvious you like me," he cheekily replies.

She rolls her eyes at him. "It's not like that, Soul. Hiro is a good friend, even if he gets on my nerves sometimes. And Tsugumi really seems to like him!"

"She's nine."

"But she still likes him, although that may be because he bribes her with gifts and ice-cream..." Maka sighs, kicking a stone from her path. "She doesn't like _you _because you're mean to her."

"It's not fault she gets on my nerves," Soul grumbles. "She can't take jokes."

"Because she's _nine_, Soul!"

"The jokes aren't even about her, they're about _you!"_

"Tsugumi is really close to me, of course she'll defend me when you're being a jackass!"

He rolls his eyes but doesn't reply, turning his attention to the sky instead. She can see him from the corner of her eye, those teeth that glint under the starless sky. They catch moonlight perfectly. White, sharp, teeth. Maka wonders once more if she'd imagined their dullness that Easter day before looking up at the sky as well.

At midnight, there would be a giant fireworks display courtesy of the mayor of Death City, but Maka wasn't planning on staying that long. She could see the fireworks from her bedside window just fine. Another gust of air chills her and she tightens her arms over her chest, glancing down the street for any sign of her two friends.

"Why didn't you bring a jacket?" Soul asks when he catches her trembles.

"I didn't think it would get this cold. It was warmer yesterday," Maka admits, sheepishly. Soul watches her for another second before he sighs and shrugs off his jacket, offering it up to her with a flat look on his face. But she still smiles at him because she knows, as she'd told Tsugumi, while Soul didn't spoil her like Hiro did (or _tried_ to, in her case) it was small gestures like these that made her warm up to him a little more. "Aren't you going to be cold?"

"Nah, I like the cold," he says as she slips on the jacket. The sleeve catches on a crooked nail in the wall and Maka pauses, turning to gently tug the sleeve off the nail. Eventually Soul helps her, mumbling something about human eyes being useless in the dark, and that sparks curiosity within Maka. She looks up and thinks maybe that's why his eyes glow in the dark. It's to help him see better – or perhaps they're like a cats eyes, fluorescent and able to absorb more light than normal human eyes can.

"What?" He asks when he notices her stare, reaching around her to properly drape his jacket on her shoulders.

"Your eyes glow in the dark. Does that mean you have better eyesight, too?" Maka asks, curious. He turns to her and she's conscious of how his hand falls down her arm and rests on her waist instead of going back to his side. Lights dance across his face from the fireworks. They make his eyes glow brighter. The lights graze past his lips, the sharp angle of his jaw. She can't help it: she feels more _attracted_ to him in this form than in his disguise. She wonders if something's wrong with her: he's clearly not human yet she hasn't felt this aroused and shaky since, well, she can't even remember when. Maybe Easter?

"You can say that," Soul shrugs. Despite herself, Maka faces him and squints. He snorts a laugh in reply. "Even if they didn't, I'd _still_ have better eyesight than you. Reading so much can't be good for your eyes."

"I read with the lights on!"

"I just meant reading in general," His hand on her waist beckons her closer silently and she obliges. She's walking into something that she scarcely understands, hadn't even been sure existed not too long ago, yet she doesn't feel the least bit scared. Maybe it's because she can't read his intentions, or perhaps it's something else totally, but she knows that when their lips meet again fully for the second time since Easter, she's never hated Hiro's timing more than she did there.

She never even get to feel his _teeth, _and who knew when she'd be able to have him alone like this again?

"I got you a cookie, too, Maka!" Tsugumi squeals from far-off, waving two cookies in the air happily. "Patty gave it to me for free! I got the biggest one!"

Maka pulls away from Soul instantly, slapping a hand over her mouth and trying her best to push down the heat from her cheeks. Soul only growls gutturally but gives her the space she silently asks for, schooling his expression into something resembling boredom. They're both pretending they don't feel a tingle on their lips, their hearts in their ears. Their desire is an ache that fades with the cold air and Maka pretends she hadn't been covering her mouth, but rather rubbing at her cheek when Tsugumi nears her with two cookies waving in the air excitedly.

"Here, here!"

"Thank you, Tsugumi," Maka clears her throat, glad her voice hadn't cracked like she had feared it would. She takes a bite and looks up at Hiro, his shadowed stare making her gut knot up because he could not have seen their kiss. He had been too far away and she and Soul were standing by a wall, set away from the sparking firecrackers. She looks away when his brows knit, blue eyes pinning her with an imploring question.

"What is it?"

"N..nothing, just thought I saw something weird is all," he laughs it off, the sound awkward and forced.

Tsugumi is looking between them curiously.

Soul glances at Maka, then shifts his eyes back to the sky.

But perhaps Hiro has supernatural eyesight as well, Maka decides, biting her lip thoughtfully.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this is an extremely late update, but I neglected to edit this chapter for 4th of July lol I was planning on updating on-time, before Anime Expo (which was why I posted until now, because today the con ended), but I realized I hadn't edited it at all. I decided to update today since I knew I wouldn't have time any other day and I'll make it up to you guys by posting the sequel to Ripchord tomorrow!

So, if you've read my zombie story Ripchord, keep your eyes open for the sequel, which will be posted sometime tomorrow! If you haven't read my zombie fic, you should check it out :)

_Scarlett_.


End file.
